The Griffin and the Dragon
by Lizard23
Summary: Reeling after the loss of one of her closest friends, Hermione continues in her search for the remaining Horcruxes. An unlikely ally arises from the dust as the final battle looms ominously ahead. HGDM. AU to Deathly Hallows. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to the brilliant mind of J.K. Rowling. This story will in all likelihood be A.U. once "Deathly Hallows" comes out in about a week. My first fanfic ever, so please humor me, and leave a review. Constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated if there are things that don't quite match up. Cheers!_

Hermione Granger quickly grabbed her cloak and headed for the front door. She paused briefly as she unceremoniously stuffed her wand into the cloak and stole a glance at herself in the mirror on her way out. Her reflection startled her, and she paused to scrutinize the woman staring back at her.

Gone was the seventeen-year-old girl that she seemed to recall so well. Her signature frizzy brown hair had long since run its course, and was replaced with long, thick curls that were almost as unmanageable as the frizz.

_ I really need to try Ginny's "Thick-Be-Gone" potion. I'm too busy to try and deal with 'The Beast' any longer._

Her hair was rightfully dubbed, 'The Beast', by herself, Harry, and Ron during their final year at Hogwarts. The memory brought a faint flicker of a smile to her lips. It quickly vanished. It never remained long, and was usually followed by a quick succession of tears. This moment was no different. Vaguely embarrassed, she batted at her eyes with the back of her hand and strode quickly out the door and into the night.

It had been a long six years since she left Hogwarts. Saying that her final year at school had been chaotic would be an extreme understatement. To her surprise, the school had re-opened after Dumbledore's death. McGonagall had insisted that it would show their enemies that they weren't defeated and that they would carry on. And so, with nothing to go on but the mysterious _R.A.B_. in her search of Horcruxes with Harry and Ron, Hermione insisted the trio return to Hogwarts for a second run through of the library.

"But Hermione," Ron had complained, "You already searched the library top to bottom sixth year!"

"Yes, but I very well could have missed something, Ronald. I didn't even consider the possibility that someone else could have had a book checked out-Malfoy, for instance. You never know. Besides, what else do we have to go on? And anyways, we could all use some extra help at Defense…well maybe, except for Harry."

Harry had been reluctant to return. After their visit to Godric's Hollow, there was little to do but ponder over who _R.A.B. _could be.

And so they entered their seventh year at Hogwarts. Hermione was, of course, made Head Girl-which was no surprise to the few students that had decided to return. What should have been a moment of elation and celebration seemed somehow insignificant when compared to what she was trying to help Harry accomplish. Harry and Ron showed their enthusiasm through it all, which was a true mark of their friendship. And for that, she was greatful.

The Head Girl private dormitory became headquarters for their research. It was completely isolated from the rest of the tower, and so they researched for Horcruxes without the prying eyes of fellow students and professors. But soon, all faucets of the library had been searched and exhausted-included the restricted section. There wasn't so much as a whisper of a Horcrux.

"I can't believe that there is absolutely _nothing_ in the library," Hermione had muttered, slamming a book closed.

"Yeah, well, we came up empty handed last time as well, didn't we? It's okay, Hermione, it was worth a shot. At least we know now where _not _to look," Ron had replied with a grin.

"Thank you, Mr. Edison."

The trio periodically left the castle with a little help from the invisibility cloak. They, of course, left without permission from McGonagall, who most likely would have bound them to the benches in the Great Hall with the Muggle equivalent of super glue, to search for information on _R.A.B_., and anything else they could find on Horcruxes. Most attempts were led in vain, but finally during spring term Hermione uncovered the mystery that was Regulus Avery Black by some clever work, along with countless hours of research in the Ministry of Magic, and Slytherin's locket was destroyed by means of the Avada Kedavra curse.

"Only four more to go," Harry had said with a smug grim.

The graduation ceremony acknowledged Hermione as possibly the brightest witch to ever grace the walls of Hogwarts. The claim should have left her ecstatic, but did not. Across the grounds, she had seen Dumbledore's headstone gleaming in the sunlight, and the empty void in the pit of her stomach reared its ugly head once more. The reality of everything sank in, yet again, and she left the ceremony feeling the full weight of the task still to be completed by herself, Harry, and Ron.

The next few years went by quickly. Hermione, Harry, and Ron all took the required courses to become Aurors in the midst of their various other "tasks". It seemed that it was the best course of action to prepare them for battle and for the dealing with the remaining Horcruxes. And through all the difficulty in their training and coursework of becoming Aurors, with the combined challenge of locating the next Horcrux, they always had each other. Until one day, they didn't.

It had started out as just another lead to the next Horcrux: that cursed black piece of Voldemort's soul; if you could call what Voldemort had, in fact, a soul. Hermione, Harry, and Ron had apparated to an abandoned Muggle museum on the outskirts of London, which Hermione believed housed Hufflepuff's Cup.

_ It's all my fault_, she reflected ruefully. She was forcefully brought back to the present as she tripped over a large rock and continued on through the biting night wind.

Once they apparated inside the museum, Hermione had managed to locate the cup in the deep grime and dust which one was expected to find in any building christened as, "abandoned". But the moment the cup had touched flesh, dozens of Inferi burst through the wooden floors of the museum. An explosion of wood in every direction ensued, and Hermione had to cover her face to prevent her eyes from being ripped from their sockets.

Curses and hexes flew in all directions, creating a firework display of color and magic that reflected off each of their faces.

"Fire!" Harry had shouted, "The only way to force them back is with fire!"

Grasping the cup tightly, and brandishing her wand in the other hand, Hermione backed slowly the way they had entered, only to bump into a figure that immediately threw her off balance and to the floor. Hufflepuff's cup landed several meters from her with an audible "clang", while her wand skirted off to her right.

She raised her head to find herself staring directly into black, swirling robes. As Hermione continued to look upward, slowly…almost as if time stood still for a brief moment, she saw a person staring down at her behind a Death Eater's mask. Her breath hitched in the back of her throat. Her heart pounded so loud, she was absolutely certain everyone in the room could hear it, despite the shouts coming from Harry and Ron and the inhuman noises coming from the Inferi.

The Death Eater raised his wand, slowly, almost methodically, and pointed it straight at Hermione's chest. She closed her brown eyes for what she knew to be the last time, and waited.

_ Ron, just remember that I've always loved you. Always. And Harry, you were my brother. Finish what we started and kill the bastard for me. __  
_

As a million thoughts ran through her head, she continued to wait for the green curse that never came. And just as suddenly as time had slowed, in one brief moment, everything happened too fast. A shout from Harry, no Ron, was heard over everything, and Hermione didn't have time to blink as she was violently thrown to the side of the room. The shelf with which she crashed came down on her in one great crack, and she heard from under the antiques and rubble where she landed, a voice…

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

"Noooo!" Hermione had screamed. As she tried to remove herself from the pile of pots and vases that almost seemed to be suffocating her, she heard Harry yelling several curses of his own. But she couldn't see anything! After what seemed to be an eternity, she heard the distinct _pop!_ of someone disapparating, and then Harry speaking frantically.

"Ron? No, no, no, no, no!! Ron, please no! Don't be dead! It can't be! No, please…. It…no, it can't…"

And then sobbing.

"Hermione? Where are you? Are you hurt? Talk to me, Hermione!"

A muffled noise from under the rubble was all Harry needed to scramble to his feet.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry…Ron he's…please, are you ok? Talk to me!"

She could barely understand him through his sobs as she managed to finally free herself with Harry's help. Her eyes scanned the darkness as they fell onto the lifeless form of Ron Weasley.

"Oh…please no…No."

She crawled over to where Ron lay with Harry supporting her weight. Her eyes immediately filled with tears and she screamed into the silence. The sound seemed to awaken the Inferi, who were momentarily stunned with the presence of the Death Eater.

"Hermione, we've got to get out of hear…", Harry was saying. His voice was so distant. Was he even really speaking? Was this all some bad dream?

_ This is a dream, it has to be. Ron's not supposed to die. None of us are. We're supposed to all find Voldemort together. But the ringing in my ear, and the blood on my face…please let this be a dream! _

As Hermione clutched to Ron's lifeless body as though her own life depended on it, Harry screamed something at the Inferi and a bright flash erupted from his wand. She distantly heard him summoning Hufflepuff's Cup and her wand. Before she had time to think, she felt the familiar compression of apparition; then everything went black.

Hermione awoke a day and a half later to find herself at The Burrow, and in the arms of Mrs. Weasley. Tears poured down her face as she was rocked back and forth by her other mum.

"Shhh… Shhhh…dear." Mrs. Weasley had said.

And Hermione looked up into Mrs. Weasley's eyes to say something. Anything. But nothing came out at all.

_ How about, ' I'm sorry that I killed your son. I'm the reason he's dead. I led him into that damn building, and he had to give his life to save mine. You should be proud of him. But don't look at me like I'm innocent. Like you're happy I'm here. It's MY fault that your son is dead.'_

There wasn't much Hermione could recall about Ron's funeral. She remembered she wore a black dress. She remembered Ginny hugging her. She was vaguely aware of Harry standing beside her, grasping her hand as they lowered Ron's casket into the ground. She remembered it was raining.

_ Was a phoenix singing?_

And that was about the extent of her recollection. She didn't remember what the Minister had said. She was too numb. Numb. She couldn't feel anything. She selfishly was glad she couldn't feel. She didn't want to. Ever again.

The next chapter of her life after Ron's death also seemed a bit fuzzy. Hermione knew that Harry had destroyed Hufflepuff's Cup. He had told her that he did something different to destroy it, and vaguely recalled something about having to use his blood as a 'sacrifice' to the Horcrux, but Hermione had blocked out much of what had happened over those months. Before long, months had turned into years.

Immediately after Ron's death, Hermione had walked around like a zombie, eating little, and speaking to no one, save Harry. But as time wore on, and the intense pain of losing Ron began to subside to a dull throb in her heart, she threw herself back into work. She hardly slept, but researched vigorously, and accompanied Harry on any little whim either had.

Revenge.

Hermione's revenge for Ron's death would be to find the remaining Horcruxes, destroy them, and the plunge a dull knife into the space where Voldemort's heart should have been. It was that visual that gave her the first smile since before Ron was killed.

But the work was tedious, slow, and every lead that Harry and Hermione followed seemed to end up at a dead end. She would not be discouraged, though, and continued on at a maddening pace.

They had moved into a descent sized cabin-like dwelling that was in a thick forest in Northern England. Harry emphatically refused to return to number 12, Grimmwauld Place and Hermione had never argued. She remembered the place to be dreadful and it contained too many memories of Ron.

There was little Muggle or wizard activity in the surrounding forest of the cabin, and Harry felt they were sure to be unnoticed. Walking to the cabin often led Hermione to think of the Forbidden Forest, and a wave of nostalgia would often sweep over her, unbidden.

Order members were at the cabin so often that it was rapidly becoming the new, unofficial headquarters for The Order of the Phoenix. Hermione had enjoyed seeing Lupin, Tonks, Hagrid, and even Moody when he wasn't on one of his tirades. McGonagall had come occasionally, bringing news of Hogwarts and anything else interesting for The Order.

Between hunches, and the scare leads that they rarely enjoyed, Hermione spent much of her days dueling with Harry in the forest, and studying the little information there was to be had on wandless magic.

"Can you imagine, Harry? Having such a resource at your disposal? The possibilities of using it in battle…if one was ever to be captured…," Hermione trailed off, eyes lost once again in an ancient looking book.

"Yes, but Dumbledore told me once that it's extremely difficult to master. Only a few wizards and witches in history have ever been known to do it," Harry had retorted from the kitchen.

"Is that a challenge?" Hermione had called back, "Just because it's rare and not in history books doesn't mean that there are witches and wizards out there that haven't done it. I suspect there are more out there than the books let on. I mean, imagine the attention you would receive… It's the element of surprise that is most useful. I bet they just want to keep it hush, hush."

"Are you implying that there are things to be learned out there that do not come from books, Hermione?" Harry asked, as he reappeared from behind a cabinet.

"Watch it, Harry," Hermione warned.

And so they dueled. Hermione had attempted wandless magic on several occasions, only to become frustrated and discouraged. Harry never lost one of their duels. That was not to say that Hermione knew nothing about Defense-their sessions were long, exhausting, dangerous, and Hermione usually gave in due to fatigue.

"Don't go easy on me, Harry," Hermione had told him on one such night, "You think that the Death Eater's will go easy on me?"

With that comment, Harry had sent a nonverbal hex her way with such force that he was certain that if it hit her, she would be knocked back half the distance to the cabin.

Hermione felt the force of the hex coming at her, but instead of making the necessary moment with her wand, she merely held out her left hand, and closed her eyes.

_ Please, let this work._

Harry looked on, wide-eyed, and screamed at her to duck, but just before the hex hit the flesh of Hermione's palm, she thought in her mind, "_Protego!",_ and the curse rebounded loudy off her hand, and into a nearby pine tree, which in turn, exploded.

There was complete silence for several seconds.

"Hermione…", Harry breathed finally, deeply as looked at the shattered tree, then back at Hermione, who was still kneeling, and looking very keenly at her left hand.

"How did you? I mean….you just used…", he started.

"Wandless magic," she interrupted simply, as though it were the most obvious answer in the world.

"Hermione! That's incredible! You did it! How many witches and wizards have been known to do it, again?" Harry asked, partly to himself, as he walked over to Hermione, helped her to her feet, and brushed off her robes.

"Dumbledore could," Hermione replied, still examining her hand, and looking for the first time in a long time, rather pleased with herself.

"Okay, so that's one…" Harry trailed off. He was secretly begging her to go off on one of her 'Hermione tangents'. What he used to find quite annoying when he was back at Hogwarts, had easily become one of his favorite things about Hermione, and unfortunately since Ron's death, she had been less enthusiastic about that part of her personality.

"Well, according to Hogwarts: A History, the number of witches and wizards that can do wandless magic is quite small, due to the fact that…"

As Hermione continued talking animatedly and at a rapid pace, Harry smiled. This was what he missed. This was Hermione. And he was extremely impressed that Hermione could master a skill as difficult and as advanced as wandless magic. But at the same time, if anyone could put in the time and dedication to figure out how to accomplish such a phenomenon, it would be Hermione Granger.

"…and Merlin is said to have been able to do it, along with Godric Gryffindor, of course. It was Merlin's insatiable thirst for knowledge that was said to give him that skill, which is…"

"Exactly like you," Harry interrupted.

Hermione stopped talking and looked at Harry with a small smile.

"Whatever happened to your theory of the limitless, superior information out there that is not found in books?" Harry questioned with a smirk, then added quickly, "It's good to see you smile, Hermione."

Hermione had started to retort, but immediately the smile vanished, "I shouldn't be smiling."

"Why not?"

Hermione stared into the darkness of the forest, saying nothing, but crossed her arms across her chest, and stood like a statue, as the wind blew her hair into a fury.

"Hermione," Harry started gently. All thoughts of the amazing achievement of wandless magic were gone. He turned her around to face him, "Ron would want you to smile. He would want you to go on with your life. To laugh, to live, to…" but he was cut off.

"We've got to find those Horcruxes, Harry," Hermione said, "And I'm not ready to talk about Ron."

It was the first time he had mentioned Ron since the funeral.

"Okay," he merely stated.

And with that, they both walked back to the cabin, though Harry at a slower pace. It was difficult for Harry to bring up Ron as well. Ron was his best mate. He deeply missed the summers that he had spent at The Burrow with Ron. The smell of the place, Ron's constant snoring in his tiny room, and pestering Hermione to no end with never ending talk of Quidditch were some of the things he remembered most. He never forgot, however, when Ron had told Harry that he would be with him to the very end. Tears sparkled behind Harry's glasses as he recalled the grin on Ron's freckled face in that moment, the friendship that was almost tangible in the air, and the pat on the back he had given him as he strode off to go to the end of term feast.

Harry arrived at the cabin to find Lupin, Tonks, and Hagrid talking animatedly with Hermione. He greeted and embraced his friends and started discussing possible tactics for upcoming attacks, but he and Hermione avoided the subject of their latest research. It was most difficult to keep information from Remus, and Harry was more and more convinced every day that Remus knew he and Hermione were keeping something from the rest of The Order.

Hermione had shared her information with Harry on wandless magic, but he was unable to perform it with the level of proficiency that Hermione was rapidly gaining. Harry was slightly annoyed that Hermione could accomplish such an incredible task, while he could not, but all thoughts of jealously soon fled when he realized that it would be an invaluable asset to Hermione, should she lose her wand in battle.

_ It will keep her safe._

The next week, The Order began to organize another raid on Malfoy Manor, courtesy of Alastor Moody, in a last effort attempt to find anything on either one of the Malfoy's, the Death Eaters, or Voldemort. It was the third visit The Order had paid to the manor in the last year alone.

"I can't believe we're back at this hell hole," Harry had muttered to Hermione. Malfoy Manor was exactly that-not a hell hole, but an extravagant manor. The manor had been abandoned for several years, and dust and time had crept over what once may have been a dark, but elegant place. But time, ever present and continuing, had reduced Malfoy Manor to have the appearance of what Muggles might term, a 'haunted house'. As far as anyone knew, no one had returned to Malfoy Manor since the night Draco Malfoy had attempted to murder Dumbledore.

"A hell hole it may be, Potter," spat Moody nearby, obviously overhearing his comment to Hermione, "but one can never be too careful. Death Eater's and the like could have come back at any time. This would be a perfect place for their headquarters."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Yes, it would be perfect, despite the small fact that we seem to come hear once a week. I would say _that_ would be quite a deterrent to having headquarters here."

Moody's rolling eye shot right in Hermione's direction, "All right! Everyone split into pairs, I want the kitchen searched thoroughly! Watson! You and Reece take it. Potter! You and Granger, check the upstairs drawing room! Lupin!..."

Moody's shouts could still be heard while Harry and Hermione headed up the rickety stairs.

"You'd think that he was the head of The Order, the way that be barks at everyone," Harry observed disdainfully. Harry had considered Remus as something of a father-figure, and it was Remus that had been voted as the head of The Order of the Phoenix since Dumbledore's murder.

Hermione only smiled ruefully as they continued upwards. "He's just paranoid, Harry. Remember fourth year? I suppose I would be a bit on edge if I was locked in my own trunk for a year."

"I know. I was just saying."

"I know."

When they reached the upstairs drawing room, they both pulled out their wands, and with a quiet "_Lumos!"_, the room became visible.

"Has it always been this cool in here?" Hermione questioned, pulling her cloak more tightly around her.

"It's just the feel of the place. If anything, I'm getting hot because I'm thinking of Malfoy, and all the different ways I could curse him if he'd ever show his slimy, Slytherin face," Harry stated through gritted teeth.

That comment got a small smile out of Hermione. "I still find it odd that the Death Eater's don't seem to know anything about him either. All the ones that were questioned in Azkaban act as though they haven't seen him since just after he tried to kill Dumbledore."

"They're obviously lying for him," Harry retorted.

"Under Veritaserum?"

Harry merely shrugged and made his way down the dark hallway, stopping to look at a portrait that was obviously Lucius during his younger years, sitting astride a black horse. His resemblance to Draco Malfoy at this age was almost scary. Harry chuckled, "Remember what you told me about Napoleon, Hermione? Maybe Lucius was compensating for something as well."

Hermione glanced up at the portrait and watched Lucius Malfoy prance around on a large, dark steed with the ever present Malfoy smirk across his face. "I'd bet so," she replied with a grin, and continued down the hallway.

"Although," she called over her shoulder, "I find it surprising for a wizard such a Lucius Malfoy… 'Mr. Pure Blood' himself, to be seen in a manner that is so obviously Muggle in it's conception."

"Uh huh…" Harry muttered, as he studied the painting more closely.

Hermione continued down the long hallway until she it came to an abrupt end. She had been down this hallway on every previous visit to the manor, and each time it left her troubled.

_ This was always so strange. Why would the hallway just end like this? It obviously appears to be leading to something, but to where? To what? …And then it's just…nothing. Another dead end._

"It's architecturally unbalanced…" she spoke aloud to herself. Those implications alone surely would run Lucius into a fit. Everything connected with that retched family was meant to be pure, untainted, and balanced.

As she ran her nimble fingers across the alabaster stone that marked the end of the hallway she abruptly pulled back with a small shriek. Her fingers burned.

Harry was immediately running down the length of the hallway, wand drawn, and a frightened expression on his face.

"What? What happened?" he demanded, looking her over in what looked like hysterics.

"My fingers…", Hermione trailed off as she looked up. Where her fingers had touched the alabaster, a message was magically written in what appeared very much to be like blood:

MALFOY PRIVATE LIBRARY  
NO ENTRANCE MUDBLOOD!

Hermione stared at the writing, as Harry was frantically leaning over her fingers, trying to pry them open and deduce if any harm was done.

"Harry, touch your hand to the stone wall," Hermione ordered.

Harry straightened and looked down at her with a quizzical expression.

_ When did you get so tall? Weren't we always the same height? Wasn't Ron the tall one? _

"What are yon on about, Hermione?" Harry asked, still holding her burned fingers.

"Touch the wall, and see if it opens! If you can get in…if it knows you're not muggleborn…I bet there are loads of dark books in there, maybe something about Horcruxes…don't you see? This is what we've been…"

But Hermione's little revelation was cut short as Moody, Lupin, Watson, and Tonks dashed up the stairs and galloped down the hall to see what the commotion was about.

"What's going on?" Moody demanded.

"Is anyone hurt?" Lupin asked, concerned.

"Hermione just…", Harry started, but was immediately cut off by the very witch of whom he just spoke. She moved, quite forcefully in front of the alabaster stone, blocking the message.

"I just tripped on the rug here and landed on my hand. Really, I'm fine. Nothing to fret over. Now, if we can just leave this dreadful place and go have a butterbeer, I think that we'll all feel better."

"A fire whiskey, would be more like it," Watson mumbled.

Harry glanced over at Hermione, who was in turn, trying to shoo everyone down the hall and kept glaring daggers at Harry. As everyone walked ahead, Moody kept turning around every few seconds, eyeing the pair of them suspiciously.

"Hermione, what the hell?" Harry demanded.

"Oh hush!" she whispered, "Do you honestly want them knowing what we would be looking for in a library full of dark books and magic? Moody would be in for a field day! They would know the second we started looking for anything remotely similar to a Horcrux that something was going on…especially Lupin."

Her voice calmed a little, "I feel most badly about leaving him out. He could be such an asset… I know that Dumbledore said that only we should know, but seeing how Ron's…er..gone, do you think…?"

Harry looked down at Hermione as they paused on the rickety steps. It was the first time that she had willingly brought Ron up.

"I don't know, Hermione. It's not that I don't trust him, it's just that Dumbledore specifically told me…" he trailed off and watched her look down at her hands, tenderly grazing the burns with her wand. "…We are, however, running out of ideas…maybe if this library thing doesn't work out, we should tell him."

Hermione looked up, with something of gratitude in her eyes.

"I think that would be a good idea. Or well, you know, there's always Ginny…" She started.

"No."

"Harry, I just mean that…"

"Absolutely not. We've had this conversation before, Hermione. Just drop it, okay? I'm not going to change my mind. It's my decision to make. I love Ginny too much, all right? The less involved she is, the better."

"Okay," Hermione resigned quietly.

That was earlier that evening. Now, Hermione was dashing through the forest, maneuvering deftly around the thick trees. Her breath could be seen to the few deer that stood frozen nearby, startled as she continued on in the darkness. She was breathing harder now, and picking up her pace she started in a full out run for the apparation border.

Harry and the rest of The Order had set up apparation boundaries around the cabin. They had made a rather large circumference for added protection, by Hermione's own orders. Now, however, she cursed loudly at the large area as she stopped running, bent over holding her legs, and panted loudly.

Hermione knew that when Harry found the note that she left for him, he would be irate. He never let her go anywhere alone, and she knew that when he found that she had left for Malfoy Manor by herself, he would be furious. It was almost a little demeaning-she certainly could take care of herself, but she eventually always softened because she knew he was just worried about her.

_ In all fairness, I asked him to kindly stay with me, instead of gallivanting off with Lupin to Grimmwauld Place. If he would have just stayed, he could have come along…_

Harry and Lupin had left not an thirty minutes ago to go to number twelve, Grimmwauld Place, to pick up a few additional supplies. Hermione had sat in the large sofa by the fireplace and had a silent debate with herself. In the end, her curiosity got the better of her, as well as the prospect of exploring new books in a new library that could possibly contain information about Horcruxes. The anticipation of discovering something to aid in defeating Voldemort outweighed any yelling that Harry was sure to do when he found her again.

"What supplies?" Hermione had asked, irritated that Harry was refusing to stay behind so that they could discuss the Malfoy Library, and the infinite possibilities that would surely lie beyond.

"Just some stuff that we left there. Not a big deal, Hermione. Just relax here until we get back," he had mumbled as he threw his cloak on and walked out the door with Lupin.

The "stuff" of which Harry spoke was in Hermione's mind, no doubt, the remainder of Harry's Quidditch hoard that they could not all carry over the first time they had emptied Grimmwauld Place.

And so, not ten minutes after they left, Hermione had grabbed her cloak, and was heading out the door and into the forest night.


	2. Chapter 2

As Hermione neared the apparation border, the possibilities of the private Malfoy library literally swam before her. For so long, there was nothing. No leads, no whispers of Horcruxes, no hints whatsoever of the next step they should take. Now, she had a renewed sense of certainty running through her body.

_This could be the answer we've been looking for! The Malfoy library! How could I have overlooked such an obvious possibility? Why didn't I pay more attention to that hallway? I knew there was something off about it. _

_Game plan. I need a game plan. Obviously, the library won't accept my 'tainted' blood. There's got to be another way around it. A spell? Another more secret entrance? _

A dozen or so possibilities ran through her mind as she came to an abrupt stop at the border. Each scenario seemed less likely that the previous, but it was the thought that she could _try_ to do _something_ that made her apparate quickly, leaving the forest and cabin far behind.

The grounds surrounding Malfoy Manor seemed to Hermione to be quite similar as how Harry described the maze of the third task when he was in the Triwizard Tournament. And as she slowly walked toward the entrance, wand drawn, she felt foolish that she was actually trembling with fear…or was it excitement?

Fear.

_Oh, stop it! You've been here dozens of times with The Order before! Getting scared now, Granger? Some Gryffindor, indeed!_

With a renewed sense of courage and determination, Hermione stepped onto the porch. It creaked loudly beneath her feet. Her breath hitched in her throat, and her heart thudded loudly against her chest.

_Come on! Stop being such a girl! You're an Auror for crying out loud! Remember, the library! Focus!_

With a skilled movement of hand and wand, from one that had done it a thousand times, Hermione thought in her mind, "_Alohamora!", _and the heavy doors parted and swung open loudly.

The moment Hermione's feet stepped through the entryway, there was a slight movement out of the corner of her eye that happened so quickly, she wasn't even sure that she truly saw it in the first place. But as she turned to look more closely, Hermione knew that she had in fact, not imagined anything because she was immediately thrown up against the entry wall with such force and speed that it seemed she didn't even have time to blink.

Her wand arm was pinned against the wall, pointing uselessly down at the floor while her other arm was painfully pinned up above her head. Hermione's assailant stood so close to her that she could barely make out a form at all in the deep blackness of the manor. But as he slowly leaned back to where he wasn't completely smashing her into the wall, she saw a flash of white, blond hair, and as her left arm was released to only be replaced by a wand at her throat, a light illuminated right in front of her and she saw hateful gray eyes staring back into her own frightened brown ones.

"Granger," he said with a haughty tone she had long since forgotten.

_You! Can it really be? You slimy coward! You tried to kill Dumbledore!_

A new sense of rage burned through her entire body. Hermione gripped her wand tightly, but with all her strength, she could not raise her arm to point it at her attacker, Draco Malfoy.

Sensing her arm movement, Malfoy tightened his grip on her wrist with such strength that she was forced to drop her ward. It landed on the granite floor with an audible "clang".

As Hermione looked beyond the lighted wand to Malfoy's face, she saw him smirk at the loss of her weapon.

Hermione immediately grabbed Malfoy's forearm with the hand he had released to draw his own wand on her throat. She closed her eyes briefly, muttered an incantation with her thoughts, and when she opened her eyes once again, her left hand was glowing brightly, wrapped tightly around Malfoy's arm.

Malfoy stared incredulously at Hermione's glowing hand, but before she could release the power of the curse, his hand closed on her throat.

The lack of oxygen immediately caused Hermione to lose her concentration on the spell, and as she withdrew the magic, her arm went straight to her throat over Malfoy's hand to try to pry it off her. Within a few seconds everything went black.

Malfoy watched as Hermione's eyes slowly rolled back in her head as she drifted to unconsciousness. Her body slumped forward and he caught her before she fell to the floor. In one swift motion, he lifted her body into his arms, and carried her through the entryway, into the living room and laid her on the couch.

Without looking, he flicked his wand at the fireplace, and immediately a fire roared to life.

"_Accio_ Granger's wand," he commanded quietly, as the wand flew into his hand. He studied the design of Hermione's wand closely, felt the wood with his fingertips, and then quickly stuffed the wand into his cloak, and turned his attention back to his prisoner.

_Wandless magic. She was about to do wandless magic on me. Granger. Always was a know- it- all. What did Snape use to say? Insufferable-know-it-all. _ _Could Dumbledore even do wandless magic? I've never seen the Dark Lord use it._

He looked down at her hands, at the small bandaging that was on her burnt fingers, and smirked.

_I knew you would come, Granger._

And as Malfoy looked down at her, he realized with a sudden clarity that this was not the Granger he remembered from school. This was a woman.

_A woman?_

He struggled to even comprehend the thought, but there was no denying it. Her horrid bushy hair had finally been tamed. _Or did she finally realize she could put a charm on it? Brightest witch of our year, indeed. _ Her emerald green robes beneath her black cloak reveled that she definitely had a womanly figure. _Did she always? Those ghastly Hogwart's robes could have hidden an elephant beneath them._

And then there was her face. It was…pretty. Shocked at this frightening revelation, Malfoy sank into the arm chair that was next to the couch. _She was certainly never pretty at Hogwarts…or was she? _His father's deeply bound prejudices were beaten into Malfoy, quite literally in fact, since birth. _Did I never notice because she was muggleborn?_

And as he was pondering these disturbing revelations, namely that Granger was, in fact a woman, she stirred on the couch and her eyes began to flutter open.

Malfoy immediately flicked his wand at her, and the moment she made eye contact with him, Hermione realized that she was unable to move.

"I apologize for _stupefying _you, Granger, but we don't have a lot of time and I would prefer to get through this as quickly as possible, because no doubt, your little entourage will be joining us shortly," Malfoy started.

"I will do this as quickly and with as much detail as possible, but it is imperative that you listen to me…thus you being unable to scream at me at the moment, or badger me with the thousands of questions that you most likely have bounding around your brain at this moment," he continued as he gestured toward her.

Malfoy walked to the fireplace and paused with his back to Hermione. It was a moment before he spoke again, this time, somewhat softer.

"I am not a Death Eater," he began. He turned towards her again, "Well, technically I am," he back pedaled, and moved silently towards her. Malfoy pulled his cloak up above his right forearm to reveal the Dark Mark. Her face could show no movement, being stupefied, but he was quite certain that her brain was reeling.

"No doubt, you recall everything that happened in our sixth year. I have no doubt you heard from Potter that I was supposed to kill Dumbledore. I saw, by the way… since I know that you're dying to ask me, Dumbledore glancing back at some random spot on the tower, and I knew that Potter was frozen there, under his invisibility cloak."

"I also have no doubt that Potter failed to mention what I told Dumbledore that night. He never told you, did he? I _had_ to kill Dumbledore that night. Why? If I failed to kill Dumbledore then the Dark Lord told me he would kill me and my family. If it was just Lucius, I could have cared less, but my mother. My own mother, Granger…he would have killed her."

Malfoy paused as he observed Hermione's face. She couldn't move, but he kept waiting for the moment when she would suddenly sit up and begin accusing him with a pointed finger and start asking every question that had wandered into her mind thus far in his revelation. He was quite certain, by now, they were in the thousands.

"Anyway," he continued, "you know the rest of the story. I still couldn't kill Dumbledore, and Snape had to come and finish the job for me. Let me just tell you quickly, for you're sure to be thinking about it now, that Snape is still serving your precious little Order of the Phoenix. And yes, I know about your Order as well."

Malfoy took in a brief moment of satisfaction in that, because he was centain that Hermione had to be screaming to ask him something. Anything. Or to accuse him…which he knew would eventually come later.

"How, you surely would like to ask, can Snape possibly be serving your Order and have killed Dumbledore…who I've been told was it's last leader," he continued, "Well, to make a rather long story short, Snape had made an Unbreakable Vow to my mother that he would protect me as best as he could, and finish the task which I had been given, if for any reason I wasn't about to do so."

Malfoy was now pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, as if thinking of how to best continue.

"At the same time, Snape also made an Unbreakable Vow with Dumbledore that if it came to it, Snape would kill Dumbledore to unsure his place as spy with the Death Eaters, while continuing on to search for the Dark Lord's remaining Horcruxes."

He stopped speaking, walked over to where Hermione lay on the couch, and bent down to her face…close enough for an intimate whisper and said, "Yes Granger, I know about the Horcruxes."

Malfoy looked over her face as she stared blankly ahead of him, and then continued, "And Dumbledore knew that he was dying, so it worked out well for him too. Instead of facing a long, agonizing death, it was over rather quickly. Of course, I didn't know all of this at the time, but I have since been informed by Snape."

"And so this is the predicament that we find ourselves in, Granger. I don't want to be a Death Eater. I never did. Weather you choose to believe that or not is up to you, of course, but it would be much easier for the both of us if you just take my word for it. Snape is the only contact that I have had with the Death Eaters since the night he killed Dumbledore. I have been in hiding from them and have been trying to come up with where the remaining Horcruxes are so that I can help you and Potter destroy them and then free my mother," he paused, "And now I need your help."

_I can't believe that I just admitted that to Granger. She'll never let me live it down…_

"So, Granger," Malfoy concluded, "I am now going to release you from the spell. I strongly advise you not to scream…your throat will hurt from where I grabbed you, which I wouldn't have done, by the way, if you wouldn't have attempted wandless magic on me. And so Granger, I'm asking you again for your help," he finished, and then as almost an after thought he added quietly, "Please."

With a quick movement of Malfoy's wand, Hermione suddenly found herself capable of movement. She sat up quickly, massaged her throat, and glared at the man that stood before her.

_Malfoy._

Hermione stared at him for several moments before she spoke, "Do you really," she started, but then stopped quickly, wincing, as she rubbed her throat once more. It felt as though it were on fire.

"Here," Malfoy said, walking towards her, "let me." And before Hermione could even protest, she watched him move his wand in front of her throat. He closed his eyes, briefly, and muttered a healing spell to himself. Instantly the pain was gone, and she looked up in surprise as Malfoy walked back over to the fire. She had the fight the urge to say, "Thanks."

"Do you really," she spat in a low voice, "expect me to believe all that? Do you think that I've forgotten everything that's happened, and what's more, do you really believe me to be that stupid?" she asked, eyes flaring as she stood up from the couch.

"No, I don't think you're stupid at all," Malfoy said, indifferently, "Which is the reason that I'm asking for your help. I need someone with some brains to help me figure this out. Have you not noticed that Potter isn't here? I'd be better off asking a pig to help me," he added, snidely.

_Pigs are actually very intelligent creatures, _Hermione almost retorted, but decided not to.

"Granger, I need your word that you'll help me. It won't be long before your precious Potter figures out that you're here,"

"I thought you just compared his intelligence to that of a pig?" Hermione spat back. "And no, I'm not giving you my word. Why do you want my help now? It seems all a little too convenient. I'm sure you'd be just as happy to take me back to your Death Eater friends to-"

But she was cut off by a near scream, "I AM NOT A DEATH EATER!!"

Hermione, for probably the first time in near recollection, was stunned into silence.

"If I had wanted to take you to the Death Eaters, don't you think that I would have done so already? Why do you think that I would have bothered to bore you with that little speech? For my own good? Trust me, Granger, if I wanted to take you to the Death Eaters, you would have been there the moment my hand was around your neck!" He was yelling, and inches from her face.

"Malfoy," Hermione started, her voice rising with each word she spoke, "Then I want you to explain something to me. You hate me. You always have. Wasn't it me that you wanted the Basalisk to kill in our second year? I'm a mudblood! Don't you dare patronize me with your seemingly new 'views'." She was pacing the length of the floor and waving her hands wildly in the air as she spoke.

"What was your favorite phrase back in school? Oh yes, I'm surprised it escaped me because you were so _creative_ in using it every time you saw me, 'Filthy little mudblood!', wasn't it? And now that you have turned over a new leaf, as it were, you want the mudblood's help?" Hermione demanded. Her chest was heaving from the frantic breaths she was taking.

"Well, I don't believe you," Hermione spat.

Malfoy sighed, "I thought that you had more sense then Potter. What more do you want me to tell you, Granger? Shall I get some Veritaserum?"

Although Malfoy was obviously being sarcastic, Hermione's face immediately lit up.

"Oh, you can't be serious," he said.

"Of course I am. Why, do you have something to hide?" She accused.

"I've told you everything, Granger. But quite unfortunately for yourself, I forgot to put Verisaterum on my shopping list last week," Malfoy replied, snidely.

"Oh well, lucky for me I brewed some not long ago. Now give me my wand," Hermione demanded as she stood in front of Malfoy, arm outstretched.

"Not a chance. You think I'm that thick, Granger? I'm actually quite insulted," Malfoy retorted with a mock look on his face.

"So, you just expected me to help you and Snape on your little Horcrux quest without giving me my wand?" Hermione asked, both hands resting on her hips.

"When I know that I can trust you, I'll give it back to you. Now, Granger, we don't have a lot of time. Let's _move_," Malfoy emphasized the last word loudly.

"Fat chance," Hermione argued. She took three large steps back away from him, closed her eyes briefly, and said with her arm outstretched, "_Accio _Hermione's Verisaterum!"

Hermione's hand glowed a brilliant blue as she stood staring at Malfoy, never breaking eye contact with him. It wasn't until a few minutes later when the bottle of Hermione's Verisaterum broke through on the main entry windows that Hermione looked away from Malfoy.

"Nice one, Granger. Now that the window's broken, everyone will know that someone has been here!" Malfoy yelled angrily. "Moody was already paranoid enough about this place!" He pointedly ignored the fact that Hermione had performed magic that he had never before witnessed in his life.

"And that matters to me because…? Wait, how did you know that Moody had been here?" Hermione asked as she uncorked the vial that contained the Veritaserum.

Malfoy merely shrugged, folded his arms and smirked at her.

"Sit down, and drink this," Hermione said forcefully, as she walked toward him.

"Granger! We don't have time for this! Not only for your precious little Order, but Death Eaters as well! We have to move!" Malfoy yelled, stepping towards the fireplace and waving his hands in frustration.

"I don't care. You either drink this right now and let me ask my questions, or it will be Azkaban for you, Malfoy!" Hermione yelled back.

_I can't believe that I've actually sat here this long anyway. Malfoy should be in Azkaban! Curse my insatiable curiosity…_

Malfoy did nothing but stare at her. They were both only inches apart from each other. Hermione could feel his heavy breathing on her face. "Fine," he said smugly.

"What?" Hermione asked. This was not what she expected to happen. Malfoy was supposed to tell her that he wouldn't do it, that she should go to hell, and then she was supposed to cart his sorry arse off to Azkaban. This definitely wasn't in the cards.

"You heard me, Granger. Just hurry, okay? We really have to get out of here," He added nervously as he sat in the arm chair.

Hermione just stood there. Several feet in front of him, holding the bottle of Verisaterum and stared at his face.

_Is he being serious? He's going to willingly take Verisaterum? That means that he's telling…the truth…_

"Don't just stand there like we have all day, Granger! Hurry! Let's do this. Ask your questions so that we can get the hell out of here!" He yelled angrily.

Hermione seemed to snap out of whatever it was that she was actually "in", and walked stupidly towards Malfoy with an odd expression on her face. She couldn't believe it. His eyes met hers, silently begging her to get on with it, and so she emptied the vial in his mouth.

Malfoy sat silently for a moment, smacking his lips together as he downed the rest of the Veritaserum.

"This stuff tastes foul," He said, honestly.

Hermione continued to sit in silence, as Malfoy started at her expectantly. Finally, gaining some nerve, she stood directly in front of him and spoke.

"Tell me your name," She demanded.

It was always best to begin with the starter questions, to make sure the serum was working properly.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy."

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Twenty-four."

"Who was your least favorite person at Hogwarts?" she questioned, curious to know.

"Potter."

Hermione had figured that it would be either between herself or Harry. But still, she couldn't believe that she found herself in this position…questioning Draco Malfoy by means of Verisaterum! She would learn the whole truth of everything that had really happened! And as she silently regarded Malfoy, she truly noticed him for the first time since everything began.

He was tall. She was quite tall herself, for a witch, but Malfoy was like…_Ron _tall. And when they had stood apart, minutes before in their raging argument, he had towered over her. He also wasn't the scrawny wizard that she remembered punching at Hogwarts. He was really quite…built. And just like at Hogwarts, he still had his handsome, albeit, smirking face.

She visibly shook her head as she returned to her questioning.

"What happened the night Dumbledore was murdered?"

And he told her, almost word for word, exactly what he said had happened earlier that evening.

Hermione was stunned.

"How do you know that Dumbledore was dying?"

"I saw one of Snape's memories. His blackened arm was killing him slowly. It would have taken months to reach his heart," he replied.

"How do you know about Horcruxes?"

"Snape. He wants them all destroyed as well. He still beats himself up over Dumbledore. Dumbledore was the only person who actually really cared about him. It killed Snape to do it."

Hermione stood dumfounded. _It killed Snape to murder Dumbledore? Can it be?_

"Do you want to destroy the Horcruxes and in turn, Voldemort?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about the Unbreakable Vows," Hermione demanded.

And almost verbatim, Malfoy reiterated the story of the Unbreakable Vows that he recited earlier.

Hermione sat down on the couch. She had to. She was stunned.

_Malfoy was telling the truth. He wants to help destroy Voldemort. _

She massaged her temples before continuing.

"Do you hate me?"

"No."

"Then why did you treat me like that back at school?"

"My Father. Everything with him is pure blood or scum."

"And do you care about blood?"

"Not any more. When we die, we all bleed the same, Hermione."

It was the use of her name, more than anything that evening, sent shockwaves down her spine. Was she in some kind of alternate reality? Can this really be happening?

"Why do you hate your father?"

He had never actually told Hermione that he hated him, but the manner in which Malfoy regarded his father tonight seemed to indicate the reason she questioned him.

"He loves the Dark Lord. He wanted me to be his perfect little Death Eater. I never wanted it. I was too scared of the Dark Lord and my father to rebel or question anything he said. If I ever did, I paid for it."

"Is that why you became a Death Eater?" Hermione asked, quietly.

"Yes, that and the Dark Lord threatened to kill and ravage my mother."

"Oh."

Malfoy said nothing, but looked at her intently. And in that moment, Hermione couldn't help herself.

"Do you think…that I'm…pretty?"

She wasn't sure why she asked it. But there it was, out on the table.

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow, "That's not playing fair Granger."

She waited for the serum.

"Yes, I do," he said quietly.

Almost as soon as he had finished, there was a rapid pounding on the front door, and Hermione heard several voices in succession.

Malfoy jumped to his feet and grabbed her arm, "Happy Granger? Had to cut it to the last minute?"

"Are those Death Eaters or Order Members?" she asked, mostly to herself, as Malfoy was hurrying her down the hall toward the ballroom.

"Neither are good, but Death Eaters would be worse, I'm afraid," he answered. His voice seemed shaky.

"Do I have your word, Granger? Now that you're satisfied with my answers, do I have your word that you will help me, that you won't betray me?" Malfoy asked. There was a slight tremble in his voice that made it seem almost as if he was begging.

Explosions were going off at the entrance of the house and then…more shouting.

"Is he here?" One shouted.

"Find the blood traitor!" Shouted another.

Definitely Death Eaters.

Hermione looked up at Malfoy and saw fear in his eyes.

"You have my word," she said firmly.

It was the first smile that Hermione had ever seen on Malfoy. And with that, he grabbed her arm, and they apparated.


	3. Chapter 3

Cold.

That was the first thought that came to Hermione's mind as she stumbled into the darkness after her recent apparation with Malfoy. His hand was still around her forearm as her eyes struggled to adjust to the blackness of the night and the biting wind that was throwing her hair into an absolute fury. She could smell salt water.

_Where the hell are we?_

She was just about to ask Malfoy that very question when he roughly pulled her forward.

"Hurry. We have to get inside," he yelled against the wind.

"Inside where, exactly?" Hermione shouted back. As far as she could tell, there were no buildings nearby. In fact, it seemed as though they where in the middle of nowhere. Distantly, she could hear waves crashing against the shore.

"Malfoy! Where the hell are we?" She screamed.

"Come on! I'll explain once we're inside, or would you rather be blown off the cliff and into the night?" He added, snidely as he continued to pull Hermione to some place which she could not see.

She struggled against him momentarily, until a strong gush of wind made her nearly topple over. She felt his other hand tighten around her waist. "Graceful as ever, Granger," Malfoy hollered as they continued to walk uphill.

Hermione began to retort when Malfoy came to a sudden halt, pulling her slightly back against him.

"What are hell are you doing, Malfoy?" Hermione demanded as she nearly tripped once more. She was swinging around to face him when her eyes caught the outline of a structure not one hundred yards before them. As she struggled to make out the outline of the building, lightning struck and lit up the entire night sky.

Startled by the sudden light, she flinched against Malfoy and simultaneously realized that they were standing before what appeared to be a miniature version of Hogwarts. Hermione's eyes darted back and forth taking in the sight before her.

The building _was_ indeed a castle; albeit quite smaller than any castle she had ever been in. However, like Hogwarts, there were several great spires that seemed to puncture the chaotic night sky.

"What is this place?" Hermione asked aloud, though too quietly for Malfoy to hear in the raging storm.

At that same moment, thunder cracked loudly around them and the sky burst open as the rain angrily began to fall.

"Come on!" Malfoy yelled as he tugged Hermione towards the castle entrance.

This time, she obliged without much resistance. She was already drenched in the few seconds that it had been raining. Her cloak immediately began to hug her skin and her hair was dripping large drops of water into her stinging eyes.

After what seemed to Hermione like an eternity, she and Malfoy came to what appeared to be the main entrance of the castle. Still keeping one hand firmly around her arm, he fumbled through his robes with his free hand in search of his wand.

"You know," Hermione hollered over the cracking thunder, "I'm not going to run away, so you can release the death grip on my arm any time you feel like it."

Malfoy finally withdrew his wand and turned to her, "I'm just trying to keep you from killing yourself. If you trip and die you won't be very useful in helping me find the Horcruxes, now will you?"

If looks could kill, Hermione's dagger like stare would have dropped Malfoy to the ground in that very instant. Malfoy merely smirked down at her, and flicked his wand toward the great doors without breaking from her icy stare.

The creaking of the heavy doors could be heard even over the tumultuous weather, and Hermione broke eye contact first.

"Come on, Granger. You're soaking wet," Malfoy observed and he pulled her through the doors after him.

"As if you care, Malfoy."

Malfoy was ready with an angry retort when Hermione's form suddenly went rigid and her eyes caught something directly behind him. He turned around quickly to find himself in front of the black, swirling robes of Severus Snape.

For one long moment, no one said anything.

Then, Snape moved his hand to Malfoy's shoulder. A recognition. It was _almost_ a fatherly gesture.

"Draco, it seems that your predictions regarding Miss Granger's actions proved correct. There were no problems? You were not followed?" Snape's silky voice questioned.

What surprised Hermione even more than the mere presence of Snape standing in front of her, was the obvious concern that laced his voice over Malfoy's well-being.

Malfoy stepped away from Hermione and reciprocated the gesture, placing his left arm on Snape's shoulder. He bowed his head slightly and closed his eyes tight as though he was struggling how best to articulate himself.

"There were Death Eaters at the manor," Malfoy finally responded. "They didn't see either one of us, but they knew that someone was there."

After a few seconds of tangible silence, Snape was the first to withdraw his hand.

"Draco! Did I not _tell_ you to implore extreme caution? How could you have alerted them to your presence? I specifically _instructed_ you to remain _only _in the library until the appointed time! How could they have known that you were there? Do you have any idea that you could have compromised the entire mission?" Snape yelled, as he paced in front of Malfoy like a caged lion.

_So much for concern._

And yet there _was_ concern in Snape's tirade. Snape was angry, like a father would be angry at a child for crossing the street without looking both ways. For Hermione, that was the strangest thing that had happened to her all evening.

"I'm sorry, Sir, it couldn't be helped," Malfoy replied, lamely as he glanced in Hermione's direction.

_Sir? One minute Snape and Malfoy were practically embracing, and the next, Malfoy is addressing him as 'sir_'

It was that moment that Snape appeared to first notice Hermione.

His gaze held hers for several moments, but Hermione refused to look away.

For six years, Hermione and Harry had thought about what they would say to Snape should they ever meet him again. It had become a sort of game between the two of them as they would banter with the most "creative" language they could come up with in in describing their former potions professor. Harry was actually becoming quite good with synonyms. "The greasy git of the dungeons" would have almost been a compliment to their former professor compared to what they had recently come up with.

Ron would have been proud.

_Ron_.

And that nagging question pulled deep down in her stomach that she had so longed to ask; to know. And now that the opportunity had presented itself, she was too afraid to do anything about it.

But as Snape looked Hermione over with a penetrating gaze that she had long since forgotten, she found that she could not come up with a single insult or ask the question that she had been dying to know since Ron had been murdered. In light of the recent information that she had received from Malfoy, this was an entirely different situation- no, not only was it a different situation, but this was an entirely different _man_ from the one that haunted her dreams.

She couldn't say anything at all.

Snape took a step towards her, and Hermione was vaguely embarrassed that her hands were shaking.

_Way to show your Gryffindor courage, Granger. _

Snape's ebony eyes locked on her light brown ones. His hair still appeared as if the last time he had washed it was the last time she saw him some six years earlier. But for how the years had changed Hermione, she was surprised that time had not done much to Snape's appearance. The only change seemed to be something that she couldn't quite place.

Fatigue? Certainly that. But something...far deeper.

_Have you really been searching for Horcruxes all this time?_

And then there was _something_ else in his eyes…it was almost tangible; she was surprised she didn't notice it in the instant their eyes met.

Remorse?

Hermione's brow crinkled in confusion. And in the very moment that she thought she saw it, it was gone.

"Miss Granger," he finally spoke.

Silence.

_Ok, so what was the one with Snape and the pregnant Hippogriff, Harry? I sort of forgot how it went. Oh yes, that's right. I'm too terrified to say anything, let alone throw insults at the man._

Hermione continued to stare shakily up at her former professor.

"Really, Miss Granger, if all it took to silence you was simply to kill someone, I would have made you aware of my actions long ago," He said as he folded his arms across his chest. "There would have been infinitely less migraines after teaching one of your lessons."

"_It killed Snape to do it. Dumbledore was the only one who ever really cared for Snape."_

It really was a bad joke, and Snape had to have known that. But despite everything, Hermione almost felt the corner of her lips turning upwards.

_Point to you, Snape._

Finally, she found her voice, "I'm not really sure what you want me to say. I'm still trying to make sense of everything." Her voice never wavered, and for that, she was grateful.

Snape regarded her for a moment longer before turning back to Malfoy.

"I'll ask you again, Draco, how did the Death Eaters know you were there?"

Malfoy was about to speak when Hermione regained her courage, "It was my fault," she interrupted.

Snape raised an eyebrow at her; a slight gesture for her to continue.

"I…I needed proof. I needed something concrete, something to believe in... some type of information before I just let Malfoy cart me away," Hermione defended as Snape's inquisitive expression turned to a deep scowl.

"Ah, of course, Miss Granger. Leave it to you to be the cynical one and ask infuriating questions just when time is pressing. I imagine that death could be knocking on the front door and you would pause for a question or two," Snape replied, snidely.

_Bastard._

"How dare you!" Hermione took a step closer to Snape, and raised her finger to his face. Water droplets fell from her cloak with the sudden moment.

"How dare you insinuate that this is my fault! Oh, do forgive me for being a little skeptical when Malfoy shows up, throws me against a wall, and asks if I'll help the both of you search for Horcruxes!

"That was terrible silly of me, wasn't it? I mean after all, the last I had heard of _Malfoy_ was that he was letting Death Eaters into Hogwarts and threatening to murder Dumbledore! And _you_! The last I heard of you, _Snape,_ was that Harry watched the green light from your wand throw Dumbledore from the roof! And you expected me to just…"

"SILENCE!"

Hermione was abruptly cut off by Snape's booming voice. It seemed as though the storm outside the castle was silenced by it as well. She was surprised by his swift movement that pushed her up against the wall, but more astonishing than the terror that she felt and her heart pounding in her chest was the unguarded look of agony in Snape's eyes.

"That's enough," he said, much more quietly. _Painfully_.

He backed away from her slowly, eyes closed, head down. After a moment, he looked towards Malfoy.

"Set her up in one of the rooms on the east tower. She looks exhausted," he said simply, and then turned and walked out of the main hallway which they were in.

It was only then that Hermione realized that she was still shaking. Whether from fear or from the rain, she wasn't sure.

_Probably both. _

"Why do you _always_ have to push it, Granger?" Malfoy asked, as he stepped toward Hermione.

"Push what? He was insulting me! I was defending…"

"Just _once_, could you please let something go? You don't get it, do you? It literally _kills_ him that he did it," Malfoy interrupted, grabbing her arm once more and leading her forward.

"Well, then he shouldn't make light jokes about it. And do you _really_ have to haul me around like luggage?" Hermione added bitterly as she looked at his hand on her arm.

Malfoy sighed, but said nothing more as they walked to the east side of the castle. As they neared a massive staircase, Hermione couldn't take it much longer.

"Malfoy, why the hell do you still call Snape, 'sir'? He hasn't been your professor for years."

"Bad habit, actually," he replied. "He's asked me repeatedly to call him 'Severus'. I've tried to call him by his name but it's just awkward. Snape's been more like a father to me than my actual father, but I'd drop dead before I called him 'dad'. It's actually quite embarrassing," he added as an afterthought.

"Malfoy, do you realize that we almost just had a civilized conversation? Of all the things that have frightened me tonight, I think that's number one on the list," Hermione pointed out as they climbed the stairs.

Malfoy chuckled softly. "Just don't tell anyone. I'd be mortified,"

_Is he flirting? No. Absolutely not._

Hermione suddenly stopped on the stair above Malfoy, forcing him to knock right into her. "Granger! What.."

But he was cut off, "Oh Malfoy, I completely forgot! Harry! I've got to get news to him that I'm alright! He must be worried sick...I need an owl _now,_" she said frantically as she waved her hands in the air, as if to better illustrate her point.

"Granger! Can you calm down for about five seconds? Good hell! Just the thought of you taking your N.E.W.T.'s makes me wonder how you didn't kill yourself by hyperventilation," Malfoy said as he tried to grab her waving arms.

"Malfoy this is hardly the time to be discussing..."

"Relax, would you? It was just a joke. Blimey Granger, are you 100 serious all the time?" He asked, "Wait, actually don't answer that," he back peddled.

Hermione merely glared at Malfoy instead of saying anything.

"Snape has taken care of everything. Don't worry about it," Malfoy informed her as he started up the stairs once again, dragging her behind him.

"Oh yes, _that_ certainly puts my nerves at ease."

"Granger..." Malfoy warned.

"So what exactly is this place, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, changing the subject, but mentally filing away that she would bring it up later and owl Harry as soon as she saw anything that remotely resembled a bird.

_Taken care of everything, indeed._

"Muron Castle," he replied as he led her up the staircase, "It's an old muggle castle that was used as a fortress during the Middle Ages. Snape told me that it's actually a tourist attraction for muggles but he placed an anti-muggle charm on it, as well as some signs that say it's closed for renovation."

"Muron Castle? That name rings a bell, but I can't quite place it," Hermione mused as they continued up the stairs, completely forgetting the scene that occurred in the main hallway, just moments before.

"Why does that not surprise me, Granger?"

"Are we still in England?" Hermione asked, ignoring the jab.

"No. Scotland."

They continued on in silence, the only sounds coming from their feet as they made their way up the concrete steps.

"So, what do you know about Horcruxes?" Hermione asked as they approached the top.

"Not tonight, Granger. Tomorrow," Malfoy replied as he passed a room on the left side of the hallway.

"Tomorrow? Why not now? I think I deserve to know what's going on. Malfoy, if you think for one minute that I'll just…"

"Granger! Would you just hold on for about one second?" Malfoy yelled as he spun around to look down at her.

"Look. First off, you're about ready to fall over dead on your feet. You're still shaking from the rain, and I suspect that your muscles are in near spasm from all the wandless magic you did today. Second, Snape was the one that suggested that we get you to help on this in the first place, got it? We're going to discuss everything _together._"

"Oh that's rich. So between hearing about what you know about Horcurxes, I'll be insulted every other sentence," Hermione interrupted.

Malfoy rounded on her once more, "Of course Snape's going to insult you because he had to admit he needs _your_ help. I thought even _you_ would have figured that one out, Granger. It's embarrassing to him! Hell! It's embarrassing to me! But he knows that you're intelligent-not that he'd ever admit it out loud. Why else do you think he bothered with the risk of bringing you here?"

Hermione was about to respond when Malfoy cut her off again.

"Look, Granger," he said more softly, "Just get some rest and we'll go over everything in the morning,"

"I don't need to rest, I'm fine," Hermione countered.

"Granger," Malfoy started with an exasperated look on his face, "You're soaking wet, you're shaking, and what's more, you're a horrible liar. We'll talk in the morning."

It was an ultimatum.

_Why is he acting like he cares?_

"Fine," Hermione shot back, suddenly realizing that she was too tired to think about anything else tonight. Earlier that day she had been at Malfoy Manor with the Order. She couldn't even begin to comprehend everything that had happened since then.

_Was that really today? It feels like it was a week ago. _

_I really _am_ exhausted._

"Can I have my wand so that I can dry my clothes? Or would you prefer that I get hypothermia?" Hermione asked, as she stretched out her right hand.

"We both know that you don't need a wand, Granger," Malfoy stated, though he was reaching through his robes to find her wand.

"And _you_ know that I'm too exhausted to do wandless magic," Hermione countered.

Malfoy pulled her wand out of his cloak and fingered it lightly. He slowly looked up from it and met Hermione's eyes.

_Your eyes were always so full of hate. What is it now? Desperation? Hope?_

He did not immediately give her wand back, but pointed it at her chest.

Hermione's breath hitched against her throat. _What is he doing?_

Malfoy looked for a moment as if he was hurt, "Honestly Granger, I'm not going to harm you. I would have thought you figured that out by now."

And with that, he silently waved her wand across her chest and Hermione instantly felt dry and warm. Malfoy then handed Hermione her wand, which she gratefully took.

"Err...thanks," Hermione said quietly.

_Did I just say 'thanks' to Malfoy? And next I'll be playing exploding snap with Voldemort._

"You can use this room," Malfoy said as he gestured to the right. "There are some witch's robes in there you can use, and if you need anything else, we'll figure it out in the morning." He added as he started to turn away.

"Oh, and Granger?" He asked as he looked back at Hermione, "I'm um..., that is to say...err, I'm sorry about earlier." He finished.

At Hermione's confused expression he continued, "About your neck." He said as he gestured toward her throat.

"Oh," Hermione said, somewhat surprised. In light of everything that had happened that evening, the incident with her neck was literally the last thing on her mind.

_What are you supposed to say to that? 'Oh, don't worry about it. Anytime you feel like strangling me, just go right ahead.'_

But what Hermione couldn't shake was that she was strangely touched by that gesture. _Since when did Malfoy ever apologize to anyone for anything? Let alone me? The mudblood?_

"Malfoy," Hermione began, with a much kinder note in her voice than had been there all night, "I gave you my word. I said that I'll help you. I meant what I said."

Malfoy stood there in silence for a moment.

"I know, Granger. I…I trust you."

And with that he walked away.

_What's scarier is that I think I trust you too._


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Ok, so I'll be completely honest. This sort of felt like the "blah" chapter to me. It's a transition chapter, and there are things that just need to be out in the open before the characters can progress with their interactions/relationships...so I guess that's my justification. Anyways, I hope that you all aren't bored to tears._ _On another note, I've been recently told that I'm "Comma Happy." (I'm sadly aware of this flaw. I'm quite the hypocrite-I hate reading over grammatical errors but mine are just as prominent as the next guy.) Hopefully they won't deter from the story!_

Hermione slowly opened her eyes and squinted into the morning light. As her eyes adjusted, she warily took in her surroundings.

_Where the hell am I?_

She sat up quickly as her heart began to pound. Disoriented, she flung herself out of the bed, nearly tripping over her own feet, and frantically searched the room for her wand.

_Where is it? Where am I? What in the name of Merlin is going on?_

With a slight glance back to the bed, Hermione saw the tail end of her wand sticking out from underneath her pillow. Letting out a sigh of relief, she crossed the room in three quick strides and grabbed the familiar object. Almost as though it was some kind of trigger to her memory, the moment she touched her wand, the previous day's events flooded her mind in a chaotic whirlwind.

_Malfoy Manor. The library. Texts on Horcruxes? Oh, the forgotten possibilities! Leaving Harry...running into...Malfoy._

_Malfoy._

_The raging storm, the castle... and Snape?_

_Snape._

Hermione shook her head, trying to clear the hundreds of thoughts that all appeared to be converging in her mind at the exact same moment.

_So much for coherency._

Sitting down quietly on the foot of her bed, she observed the surroundings of her room for the first time.

After Malfoy left her quite literally speechless the night before; Hermione stumbled into the darkness of her room, quickly found a bed, and then collapsed and was out within the next minute. The light that was now coming from the window on the right side of the room illuminated the comfortable space. Her room was neither large nor small, but the vaulted ceiling in the tower gave the room the appearance that it might have been larger than it actually was. Directly across from the bed was an empty fireplace that Hermione had missed the night before.

_Incendio!_

Immediately a fire roared to life, and Hermione extracted herself from the bed and made her way over to the comforting warmth.

_Why is it that castles are always so damn cold? _

Turning around, she noticed a small desk in one of the room's corners. A few rolls of parchment and a quill were strewn haphazardly on the surface. Across from the desk on the opposite corner of the room was a tall dresser that was resting with one of it's side doors slightly open. Curiousness always getting the better of her, Hermione left the warmth of the fire and walked over to examine the contents of the dresser.

She realized as she cautiously opened the side door, that she was half expecting moths to come fluttering out at any moment and get trapped in the confines of her hair. But as she peaked inside the dresser, she saw a dozen witch's robes hanging gracefully, with no trace of the horrid little flying insects that she had inventively imagined.

Ever skeptical, Hermione pulled out the nearest robe and looked it over. It was a beautiful shade of navy with cloth that felt like silk as it slid between her fingers. Suppressing a chuckle, Hermione held the robe up in front of her to discover that Professor Slughorn would have been able to fit in it quite nicely and still had room to breathe.

_Typical. _

Brandishing her wand, Hermione quickly discarded the robe she was currently wearing and with an impressive feat of transfiguration, the navy robe was able to fit her body nicely. As she crossed the room once more to grab her cloak, her eyes caught a trace of movement just outside her window. Walking quickly towards the window, Hermione was able to, for the first time since arriving at Muron Castle, see her entire surroundings clearly.

The castle was set upon a massive cliff. Beneath the cliff, the ocean was crashing and rolling in random waves of fury. Sea birds were gliding on the blustery air currents around the castle and then disappearing in a mass of clouds. Looking in the opposite direction was a vast valley that gradually led up to the castle. Jagged boulders stood out as they dotted the entire expanse of the valley.

_And Malfoy wonders why I was tripping all over._

It really was a beautiful place. Hostile, but beautiful. And as far as Hermione could tell, Snape didn't even need to bother with the anti-muggle charms or the renovation signs: there wasn't anything else in sight. With one final glance at the tumultuous landscape and a quick flick of her wand over her hair, Hermione turned from the window and headed out of her room.

The inner hallways of the castle were as dark as if it had been night. The hallways created a complex labyrinth as they folded in on themselves, leaving little or no light. With a silent flick of her wand, Hermione found herself able to see around the maze of hallway that led to the east stairs. As she reached the top of the staircase, light gradually came into view. The wall's torches were already lit as they led the way down the staircase. Hermione irritatedly suspected it was Malfoy's doing.

_The prat thinks that I'll fall and kill myself. _

_Sweet? _

_No. Condescending is more like it._

Hermione quietly made her way down the stairway as her footfalls fell softly on the concrete. As she neared the bottom of the stairs, she could hear voices in the main hallway.

"...Draco, you can't seriously expect me to believe that," came Snape's silky voice from around the corner.

"Why would I lie about something like this? I'm telling you, I've never seen anything like it before in my life," Malfoy's unmistakable voice was saying.

Hermione edged closer and gripped the hard stone wall as she strained to hear more of the conversation.

_Where are Fred and George and their Extendable Ears when I need them?_

"She summoned her own Veritaserum that she had brewed. If she was staying in Blackmoor Forest like you suspected, then she summoned it from several kilometers away. Sir, she didn't even_ break_ eye contact with me," Malfoy added, sounding exasperated.

There was silence for the space of several seconds before Snape spoke. His voice came from a different point in the entranceway than before. "I have asked you repeatedly to not call me that."

Again, silence.

"Sorry."

Hermione had to physically restrain herself to remain rooted to the spot. It was taking everything that she had to not look around the corner to get a glimpse of Snape's face.

_Finally going to admit that I've accomplished something worthwhile? And all it took was, what? Thirteen years? _

_Not bad, Granger. _

Hermione smirked to herself as she rested her head against the cool stone wall. Snape's deeply bound prejudices against Gryffindor House were common knowledge. In her seven years of magical education-well six years, technically, that Snape was there; she had never received one compliment from the despicable man.

Not one.

_My day has finally come._

"You realize, Draco," said Snape, breaking the silence once more, "If the Dark Lord were ever to discover that Miss Granger possessed these..." He appeared to be struggling for the right word.

_You can do it, Snape. One little compliment, that's all it will take to make up for years of dismissal from you.  
_

"abilities..."

_Not bad. I'll take it any day over "insufferable know-it-all"._

"...that it would be end game for her," he concluded.

_Damn. Never really stopped to think about that one._

"He won't find out," Malfoy said with such determination that Hermione almost felt embarrassed.

_Why is he trying to protect me? I'm not a damsel in distress. I certainly don't need _him_ to look after me._

It was in that exact moment that while Hermione was leaning forward, her foot caught the edge of an immaculate rug; simultaneously, she slipped and yelped as she fell to the floor.

"Ah, and it looks as though she's decided to make her presence known this morning," Snape acknowledged as Hermione looked up into his condescending eyes from around the corner.

Hermione scowled angrily as she quickly pulled herself off the ground with as much dignity as she could muster.

Malfoy merely chucked.

"Well, Granger. It's become painfully obvious to me as to why you never played Quidditch," he scoffed.

"Shove off, Malfoy. If you'd ever like to face me in a duel, I'd be quite happy to oblige," Hermione retorted as she brushed off her robes. It _was_ childish and she knew it. But a part of her couldn't help but feel as though they were back at Hogwarts, bickering at each other like always. That thought, at least, brought some semblance of normalcy to her increasingly odd situation.

"Or," she continued, "would you rather I just punch you in face? I'm sure _that_ would bring back a pleasant memory."

"Enough!" Snape bellowed before Malfoy could fire off an insult.

Hermione and Malfoy glared at each other as Snape stood between them.

"Are you quite ready to act like an adult, Miss Granger? Surely you realize that there are more important things to be discussed here than your clumsiness and lack of coordination," Snape said as he rounded on her.

She was just about ready to retort when she had an epiphany.

"Yes, there _are_ more important things, " Hermione spat as she crossed her arms. "Obviously you consider them to be important, or you wouldn't have gone through the trouble of bringing me here;_ needing my help." _

She emphasized the last three words with as much exaggeration as she could.

Snape glared down at her.

Malfoy, despite their recent quarrel, merely looked impressed.

"Sit!" Snape commanded.

Startled, she did so.

Snape walked over to a lavish sofa, twirled his wand in his fingers, and sat down. He began massaging his temples.

"Miss Granger," he began after a moment of silence, "let us not waste time on reviewing unnecessary information. I_ know_ you know of the Horcruxes."

He looked at her, obviously knowing that he was correct in his statement, but still waiting for some form of acknowledgment.

Hermione nodded.

"I have come to learn that you, Potter and..., " he hesitated, as though he knew it would bump the dull knife embedded in her heart, "_Mr_. Weasley..."

_At least he had the courtesy to put the "Mr" in there._

Hermione allowed herself a quiet moment of pity as Snape continued on.

_Ron. _

_Why does it _still_ hurt after all this time?_

And then she caught back up with reality and tried to focus in on what Snape was talking about.

"...though I already have been made aware that Draco has informed you of my position as..."

"Sir?" Hermione interrupted.

Snape stopped speaking immediately and raised an eyebrow.

_'Sir_'_? Dammit! How could I have let myself fall into that pattern? Especially now with what I'm about to ask him._

"I..., " Hermione began.

"I...It's just that...before anything else happens...that is to say...umm...I just..."

"Miss Granger, _do_ try to articulate your thoughts before your speak. You sound like an illiterate house elf," Snape snapped as he folded his arms.

_That_ was a discussion long forgotten to Hermione. Her house elf liberation front had ended when she graduated from Hogwarts, and she regretted that with everything else she had been trying to accomplish, she had not yet returned to her "elf activism". And she realized with sudden clairty that six years ago she would have taken the insult far more personally.

But it was enough. It gave her the courage she needed to ask the question that had haunted her for the past agonizing years.

"Did you do it?"

Silence.

The cracking from the fire that roared from the hearth in the nearby drawing room was the only sound Hermione heard besides her erratic breathing and thumping heart.

Malfoy, who had been standing behind Snape up until that point, walked forward and sat on the sofa, looking slightly confused.

Snape, however, seemed to understand exactly what Hermione was referring to. His eyes never left hers.

"No," he replied, simply.

And Hermione felt something unclench in her chest. What was it?

_Relief?_

_Certainly that, but something else..._

_Disappointment._

_Why would I be disappointed that Snape _wasn't_ the one to kill Ron?_

And then, she knew.

_Because you want to find and kill the bastard that did it and finally try to move on with your life.  
_

Somehow, she always had a feeling that it wasn't Snape that had murdered Ron. Heaven only knew why. She had known full well that Snape had killed Dumbledore in cold blood-even when the dying man had _begged_ for him to spare his life. Or, in light of her new understanding, to end it.

But somehow, it was never Snape. Her recall of that night always flashed back to those horrifying moments.

Black robes.

A Death Eater's mask.

And that voice...

It wasn't Snape's.

"No," Snape said again, breaking her reverie.

The second time that he had spoken, his voice was soft-almost gentle.

_Is there no end to my insanity? That must be the answer to everything that has happened. I am, in fact, going insane._

"I'm sorry. I just...I just had to know," Hermione said, lamely.

"And what, pray tell, Miss Granger would you have done had I said, 'yes?'" Snape asked, just as gently as before. A whisper.

The fire that met his eyes from her own was enough for Snape to not press the matter any further.

Malfoy, who had been completely silent since Hermione had first entered the room, shifted uncomfortably on the sofa.

"I think," Snape said as he stood from his seated position, "that some breakfast is in order. Considering, Miss Granger, that it is already past noon, you should eat something. No doubt you are hungry." And with that, he strode out of the entryway with his black robes ever billowing behind him.

"Um, Granger?" Malfoy asked, as he slowly rose to his feet.

Hermione looked over to him from where she sat.

"I'm sorry," he said, awkwardly after a moment.

_The second apology from him in two days? I must be hallucinating. _

Hermione raised eyebrows in confusion, "For what, Malfoy? We always insult one another. _You_ know perfectly well that I can't play quidditch. And _I_ know perfectly well that I would win you in a duel," she said with a triumphant smirk.

"No. Not that. I mean, I'm sorry about...about Weasley," Malfoy said quietly, as he looked at the ground - paying keen attention to an unseen spot on the lavish rug.

Hermione's smirk fell.

She eyed him strangely for a moment before she felt tears forming, and strode quickly out of the room.

_Please review!_


	5. Chapter 5

_"Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them."_

_-William Shakespeare_

"This wasn't exactly," Hermione said as Malfoy made his way into the kitchen of Muron Castle, "what I pictured when I thought of breakfast."

She held up two large celery stocks with her left hand.

Malfoy smirked as he sat down in the chair opposite her.

"What did you expect, Granger? Snape and I are both fugitives. Did you think we'd make a lovely couple grocery shopping together? Me pushing the cart and Snape skipping merrily down the aisle, asking if he can put more chocolate frogs in the basket?"

Hermione laughed lightly at the visual.

_Since when does Malfoy make me laugh?_

_When was the last time I laughed, period?_

Malfoy smirked at her response, "Look, Granger," he said after a moment, "About earlier in the entryway..."

"Stop right there, Malfoy," Hermione interrupted, motioning with the hand that was free of celery.

"I know what you're going to do. You're going to apologize...yet again. And really, as nice as that actually _sounds_, I don't think that I can take another apology from you today."

Malfoy started to shout something incoherent before Hermione cut him off again.

"Look. It's a thoughtful gesture, it really is! And that's what I'm trying to come to grips with! It's _thoughtful._ You and thoughtful in the same sentence...it's a complete oxymoron to me, Malfoy. I'm still trying to grasp the concept that we can actually be in the same _room_ together without hexing one another into oblivion. Don't you see? This all still seems like some strange dream that I can't quite shake," she sighed deeply.

"I keep expecting to wake up at any moment and have you call me a 'mudblood'. Now, _that_ would seem more like reality to me," Hermione added as she scanned the kitchen for some pumpkin juice with one last futile glance.

Malfoy was silent across the table for a long moment.

"I told you that I don't care about blood, Granger," he said.

"I remember what you _said_, Malfoy. I just have a hard time believing it. And can you really blame me for being so skeptical? We have been quite literally enemies for as long as I can remember - and you can't even imagine the kind of retention my mind has. Don't get me wrong, I very much like that we can be semi-civilized towards one another, it's just..." Hermione trailed off as she chewed thoughtfully on a celery stock, "...it seems so surreal."

Malfoy looked at her pensively, "Is there anything I could say that would make you believe me?"

"Malfoy, how could I _not_ believe you? You told me under _Veritaserum_! I know it's the truth. I just need a moment to process it. A little time...," she trailed off.

_A little sanity is more like it._

"Please, I just need a moment to think clearly so I can focus on everything that's happened," she concluded, as she pulled her wand from her cloak, and vanished what remained of her 'breakfast'.

Malfoy started at her a moment longer and then pulled his own wand out of his cloak and fingered it lightly; habitually.

"I want to tell you something, Granger," he said as he looked up to her face, "I think that it will help you understand where I'm coming from."

Hermione hesitated for a moment, but then nodded for him to continue.

"I know you're aware of most of my doings during our sixth year," Malfoy began, as he continued to finger his wand, "But what you don't know is everything that happened to me while I was working away from Hogwarts."

He pulled up the sleeve on his left forearm, "Like this, for example."

The Dark Mark stood out like a sore thumb on Malfoy's pale skin. Hermione had to fight a curious sensation to reach across the table and touch it.

"You don't need all of the details," he continued as he lowered his sleeve, "...but I was told to either take the Dark Mark or watch my mother be tortured and murdered."

Hermione's eyes widened with a look of astonishment on her face.

"Don't look so shocked, Granger. They're Death Eaters. It's what they do. You _are_ an Auror, aren't you? I know that you've heard and seen worse. They _live_ to torture, murder, and to serve the Dark Lord. This isn't a news flash," Malfoy said, nastily.

"Once you're a Death Eater, you're in it for life," he continued, "...or until the Dark Lord decides that your usefulness is over," he back peddled.

"So really, the fact that I'm here right now talking with you should show you the lengths that Snape has gone through to protect me."

_Snape has been protecting someone besides his own hide?_

_There's a shocker. _

"Anyways," Malfoy continued, as he shook his head slightly, aware of his own tangent, "...soon after I took the Mark, I was ordered to attend a raid with my father, Snape, and a few other Death Eaters. Nothing I had _ever_ heard or seen about Death Eaters up to that point could have even remotely prepared me for what happened, or how I would react."

Another pause.

"It was a muggle house. Simple. Nothing too extravagant. I remember seeing a cat in one of the upstairs windows as we came up the walk way. It was uncommonly tiny...probably just a kitten..." he trailed off.

And then he remembered himself.

"As Death Eaters, we were meant to make an example of them. Our actions were supposed to show how we, as wizards, were _superior_ to muggles. _Superior_, Granger. Death Eaters show their 'superiority' by destroying those who are helpless to defend themselves."

Malfoy paused in his reverie and looked down at his hands with a pained expression on his face.

_Then it really does haunt you. _

_Do you see their faces when you sleep?_

"I had cut my shoulder on a loose piece of wood in the threshold as we made our entrance. My blood and their blood...it was...it was the same. There was no difference in those creatures that the Death Eaters considered to be sub-human. We were the same. _Exactly_ the same. And all my father's lectures and preaching on the _divine_ rights of purebloods came crashing down on me in that one moment."

And Hermione took note of Malfoy as though she had never seen him before.

As if this was a stranger before her.

_But he is a stranger. _

_I don't know this man at all._

Hermione's mind kicked into overdrive as she flashed back to her sixth year. The Daily Prophet was constantly bombarded with articles on muggle attacks by Death Eaters. Entire families were whipped out; no one was spared.

Women.

Children.

_Babies._

None of it mattered. It was a moot point to them._  
_

The Prophet spared no expense on informing readers of the grotesque manner in which many of the bodies were found. Fathers strewn out protecting wives; brothers protecting sisters. But by the end of her sixth year, all of the killings had clumped together into one horrific event in the back of Hermione's mind.

_And the Order thought things were bad _then.

_Look at us now. _

Malfoy looked to Hermione, waiting for her to say something.

Anything.

But when she continued to silently regard him, he pressed on, "I think Snape knew in that moment that it was over for me. He knew that I would never be able to have _that_ life. But he also knew that if I didn't 'choose' to have that life that I would be killed. So he helped me as best he could without breaking his cover."

"He's been my refuge here every day since that moment. It's only because of him and Dumbledore that I am alive, talking to you right now."

And in that moment, Hermione was certain of two things. First, that Dumbledore was the greatest wizard that ever lived. Period. Any man that could sacrifice his life, while ensuring the safety of two others, and securing one's position as a spy was beyond great. It made him...glorious, magnificent.

_A genius. _

And secondly; Severus Snape was a _far_ more courageous man than she had ever given him credit for.

_If Harry only knew._

Hermione was still staring dumbly at Malfoy until she finally found her voice.

"And so...so have you been here all this time?"

"For the most part, yes," he answered.

"What about Snape?"

"The majority of the time he's either with the Dark Lord, or off on a mission for him. He's been the Dark Lord's right hand man since Dumbledore's death. He can never stay for long. It's too dangerous for him," Malfoy added.

Hermione was contemplating that thought when Malfoy spoke again, "And that is the main reason why _you're_ here, Granger. Snape can only pass along minuscule pieces of information while I do the leg work as best I can. It's rather difficult. Even with Polyjuice Potion, I have to be extremely careful," he said.

"I have _both_ sides that want me dead."

Hermione regarded Malfoy silently for a moment longer.

This was certainly not what she had signed on for.

And suddenly she flashed back to when she had first received her acceptance letter from Hogwarts. With her newfound excitement upon discovering that she was a witch, she could have never imagined what the future would hold for her. Her eleven year-old self had plans. Those plans were to study, work diligently, and to be the most proficient witch that she possibly could.

She had so much to make up for! Eleven years not knowing what she truly was! She was bound and determined that she would read _everything _there was to know about magic. She could hard wait for seven undisturbed years of blissful, magical education to begin.

Boy, did her eleven year-old self have a rude awakening coming.

Hermione had never _asked_ to become Harry Potter's best friend. It _just_ happened. She did not _ask_ to have her life threatened countless times while she was at Hogwarts. It _just_ happened. And she did not _ask_ for the love of her life to be murdered right before her eyes when it should have been her.

It _just_ happened.

And now, she had a new sense of certainty that she had never known before.

_I didn't _ask _to help kill you, Voldemort. _

_But I swear to you; It _will _happen._

Hermione's eyes met and held Malfoy_'s.  
_

"What would you have me do?" She asked, quietly.

Malfoy smiled widely at her from across the table. Slowly, he stood, and extended his hand

"Welcome aboard, Granger."

A smirk of her very own crossed Hermione's lips as she shook Malfoy's hand.

_And so, it begins._

The sound of footsteps nearing the kitchen made Hermione retract her grip and look toward the entrance.

Snape emerged through the arched entryway, hidden behind a mass of books, parchment, and potion bottles that he carried haphazardly in front of him.

"I don't have the luxury of time, Miss Granger," Snape spoke as he unceremoniously dumped the items he was carrying onto the main table.

"I have only precious minutes before I _must_ return to the Dark Lord," he added. This time, his gaze darted towards Malfoy.

"I am going to explain to you what needs to be done here, and I would appreciate it if you could keep your infuriating questions to a minimum - no doubt it will kill you to do so," he scoffed as he searched for a book in the muddled pile, "Because as I just mentioned; time is a luxury that I cannot afford."

_He still talks to me as though I'm twelve._

Hermione nodded for him to continue.

"The ring, the diary, the locket, and Hufflepuff's cup have all been destroyed," he said sharply.

Every Horcrux he mentioned was followed by the succinct turning of pages.

"Knowing the Dark Lord and Nagini are both separate pieces of His soul, it leaves us with one that is yet to be discovered."

_Your cleverness astounds me, Snape._

Hermione bit back the retort and motioned him on.

"I only have a small amount of Polyjoice Potion left," he continued, as he held up a small vile with his bony fingers, "...which means that you both will have to begin brewing more immediately. "

He studied the clumpy liquid a moment before continuing.

"I was made aware in your second year; _if_ I'm recalling correctly, Miss Granger, that you at least know the ingredients it takes to brew the potion successfully. You managed to _steal_ them from my storage cupboard without incident," he spat sarcastically.

Hermione tried to conspicuously adjust the hem on her robe.

_Guilty as charged._

But Snape didn't linger on the subject long, "I'm going to be very blunt about what is to be expected of you, Miss Granger. This isn't a game. And whenever that Gryffindor foolishness rears it's ugly head at you; I want you to ignore it at all costs."

_That was one blow too low. _

_I don't care how damn courageous the man is; he's still a slimy, Slytherin git.  
_

"And what," Hermione spat, as she rose to her feet so she was inches away from Snape's face, "exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what I said. Any foolish little whim and floats into your silly mind should go in one ear and out the other. You are to do _exactly _as I say, without question," Snape shot back. His hooked nose was nearly touching Hermione's forehead.

"Well, then it certainly is a wonder as to why I'm even here!" Hermione shouted, "What am I supposed to be doing then? Sitting here and cooking Malfoy dinner every night? Tidying up the castle? If that's what you had in mind, Severus Snape, then let me tell you something-"

"ENOUGH!" Snape roared.

Hermione's chest was heaving with such force that she was certain her lungs were going to burst out of her chest.

_Bastard._

"Did I not request," Snape began; his voice several octaves lower as he carefully annunciated every word, "that you let me finish what I needed to say without interrupting with your moronic questions?"

"You _did_ request it," Hermione spat vehemently, "I just never said that I would oblige."

"Granger, that's enough."

This time, the voice was Malfoy's. And she was just about to start in on him when he spoke again.

"Snape doesn't have much time. You can argue with me later. We can't compromise his position."

Hermione looked down at the items Snape had thrown on the table, feeling slightly foolish.

_Well, he started it._

Snape seemed to be steadying himself before speaking again, "_Miss _Granger," he began, "The reason why I was imploring you to use your head is due to the fact that _you_, and not _Draco_, will be doing the majority of the field research by yourself."

"What?" Hermione asked, with surprise.

"What!?" Malfoy demanded.

He arose from his chair with such force that it went crashing to the floor the instant he pushed back from it.

"Draco," Snape warned, "You know that I have little time before I must leave."

Malfoy started to protest, but Snape cut him off once more, begging Malfoy to understand.

"Draco, listen to me. The Dark Lord is on the move. You know this. He is growing increasingly impatient and it won't be much longer before the Ministry has been infiltrated. It has grown too dangerous for you."

Malfoy stared at Snape like a fish out of water, too shocked to say anything.

Clearly, he didn't see this hand in the cards.

_Humph. So, let's see how you like it._

"Sir, you can't honestly be suggesting that-"

But Malfoy was cut off as Snape quickly closed the distance between them.

Snape placed the palms of his hands on the back of Malfoy's head, and pulled it down toward his own so that their foreheads were touching.

Eyes closed, he whispered so that Hermione had to strain to hear, "I cannot risk losing you, son."

Embarrassed that she was witnessing such an intimate moment; Hermione turned her attention to the stone ceiling and began to count the cracks in the stone nearest her.

_Five. Six. Seven._

"Swallow your pride. I know that you understand the severity of the situation. You still have a part to play, but if you're going to play it right, you must bide you time," Snape continued as he stepped back and looked up at Malfoy.

"There is still a future for you."

_Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen._

A silence fell over the pair and Hermione continued to silently count.

"Miss Granger," Snape said, after a moment.

"Yes?"

A long sigh escaped his breath.

"You will be needed to do the field work. Most of your time will be spent in the castle, researching with Draco, but the time will come when we will need you to physically _find_ that last Horcrux."

Hermione's soft sorrel eyes met Snape's.

"I understand," she said.

"I won't let you down."

And for the first time in living memory, the corners of Snape's lips twitched up in what could have possibly passed as a smile on some distant planet.

"Then I will leave you to your research. Begin brewing the Polyjuice Potion immediately," he said before turning his attention to Malfoy.

"I don't know when I'll be able to return or correspond. Keep a whether eye, and inform me the moment you have a breakthrough."

Malfoy nodded.

_Inform him? And just how are we supposed to do that when he's following Voldemort around all day? _

_Maybe a written warning beforehand would be in order. _

_"Dear He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,_

_ Would you kindly pass this letter onto Snape? It contains information solely regarding the means to kill you._

_Cordially yours,_

_Hermione Granger"_

As Snape and Malfoy were leaving the kitchen, Hermione called out, "Wait!"

Snape turned around with an annoyed expression.

"Sir," Hermione began, "...it's just that I'll need to tell Harry something. Please, you must understand-"

"Absolutely not."

"Well, Malfoy told me that you had 'taken care of it'!" Hermione shouted as she walked over to where Snape stood. She was sure to shoot a fierce glare at Malfoy as she made her way over.

"Miss Granger. Let's think logically about the situation for one moment. The Dark Lord can access Potter's brain at _any_ given moment. If he were to find that you were in leave with myself and Draco, it would destroy the entire operation. Not to mention; kill us all."

"Voldemort hasn't gotten into Harry's mind for years-"

"Do NOT say his name!" Snape demanded.

Hermione eyed him silently for a moment.

_And why the bloody hell not? _

"At least let me send word to him that I'm alive. All that he knows is that I went to Malfoy Manor to try and get into the library. If he doesn't hear anything from me soon, he'll do something rash - if he hasn't done something already."

"And don't bother trying to deny it, Snape; you know it's true," she said as she folded her arms across her chest.

Snape looked her over for a moment before conceding, "Potter was always pitifully rash. Send word. A letter is too dangerous. Use the other way. Make if brief. Say nothing that doesn't need to be said."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

_I'm not an idiot. So why does he continue to treat me like one when he is asking for MY help?_

Snape turned away from her and he and Malfoy headed out of the kitchen, and towards the main doorway.

Hermione could hear them muttering for a few moments before the deafening sound of the great front door reached her ears, and then all was silent.

Malfoy's footfalls broke the silence as they neared the kitchen. When he walked through the archway, he looked momentarily apprehensive. The expression quickly vanished as his eyes found Hermione's. It was replaced by his characteristic smirk.

"Well, it looks like it's just you and me now," he taunted.

"Don't get too excited," Hermione replied as she rummaged through her robes in search of her wand.

"What are you doing?"

"Sending Harry a message. The 'other way' that Snape referred to was the _Patronus_," she said as she triumphantly found her wand.

"I know that, Granger. I'm not an idiot. Who do you think would have made Head Boy if I had been allowed to return to Hogwarts?" Malfoy asked.

"Certainly not you," Hermione replied with a smirk.

Malfoy gave an exasperated sigh, evidently deciding it wasn't worth the argument.

"I'm going down to the dungeon to get a cauldron simmering so we can get started on the Polyjuice Potion. It'll take a month for it to be ready," he informed her as he headed for the archway.

"The dungeon?" Hermione questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Malfoy merely nodded.

"Just _how_ big is this place?" Hermione asked, incredulously.

"Big enough," he replied, vaguely.

And with that, he left.

Hermione continued to stare at the empty space which Malfoy had recently occupied. After a moment, she shook her head, pointed her wand straight ahead, and tried to think of the happiest thought she could conjure.

_Hogsmede. _

_At the Three Brooksticks with Harry and Ron._

_Laughing and drinking Butterbeer._

Hermione smiled slightly as she prepared to speak the incantation.

_Malfoy - telling me that I'm pretty._

Hermione violently shook her head and then looked down at her wand in shock.

_Where the hell did that come from?_

Steading herself; she began again.

_My first kiss with Ron._

"_Expecto Patronum!"_

A silvery, vaporous otter shot out of Hermione's wand and began to playfully circle around her.

Keeping her wand pointed directly at the otter, Hermione spoke her message.

"Harry. I'm completely fine. I'm safe. Please don't worry. I'm following something that may help us find what we're looking for. I don't know when I'll be able to contact you again. Please be safe - and tell Mooney everything. He can help."

Hermione paused before she concluded, "We're almost there. It _will _end."

And with a skilled flick of her wand; the otter vanished.

_Please Review!_


	6. Chapter 6

_"Smooth seas do not make skillful sailors."_

_-Proverb_

It had been two weeks since Hermione had first arrived at Muron Castle.

About twenty seconds after she had sent her Patronus to Harry on the day that Snape left; he dispatched an immediate reply.

As Hermione was turning to head down to the dungeon, the great silver stag burst into the castle, shaking it's massive head, and speaking with Harry's distraught voice.

"_Hermione! Where are you? This isn't funny. We're supposed to be doing this TOGETHER. Please, I'm worried about you. What happened? Where are you?"_

And that was the end of the message.

The stag lingered momentarily before it dematerialized into nothing more than a faint, vaporous haze.

Hermione brandished her wand once more, conjured her own Patronus, and spoke to the otter.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione spoke clearly, "I can't. Please trust me. I'll contact you when I can. And remember - tell Mooney."

Within seconds, the otter had vanished.

Harry did not send a reply.

She knew that he had to be furious.

Actually, 'furious' was probably too kind a word.

_Murderous is more like it._

And she couldn't blame him. If the tables had been turned, and it was she left with nothing to go on but a vague message from Harry's Patronus, she would be _irate_ - to say the very least.

Hermione sighed as she walked through the archway. She hated being so short with him, but Snape - despite being a complete prat, was right. The less Harry knew, the better.

It bothered her that she had forgotten about the connection between Voldemort and Harry.

Surprisingly, what bothered her even more was _why_ Voldemort had not chosen to exploit that connection for so long.

_Harry hasn't seen any visions since our fifth year. It's literally been years.  
_

And then, feeling slightly foolish, Hermione remembered that it was, in fact, a two way connection.

With a shudder of dread, she realized that whatever Voldemort had been up to for the past several years was obviously something he didn't want Harry to know about.

_And somehow not knowing is much more frightening.  
_

She only prayed that Voldemort wouldn't access Harry's mind anytime in the near future.

_Four Horcruxes destroyed. Can't imagine he'll be too happy about that. _

And then, as she approached the spiral staircase that plunged down into the dark bowels of the castle; she had a startling realization.

_If Voldemort ever found out that any his Horcruxes were destroyed, who knows how he would react...would he feel the urgency to create more?  
_

_And then, God help us, we would be in this never ending cycle of hell with no hope of escape._

Resting her hand on the cool stone banister, she thought again of Harry.

_Please let him tell Lupin._

With herself now gone, Hermione was more certain than ever that Harry would need to confide in Lupin. As leader of the Order of the Phoenix, as well as an extremely proficient wizard at Defense Against the Dark Arts, she knew that Lupin would be an invaluable asset and that he would keep Harry from doing anything too impulsive.

_Though, I've been the impulsive one as of late._

With Harry still on her mind, she descended down the coiled stairs.

The dungeon was small - practically microscopic when compared to Hogwarts'. But with it's two quaint rooms full of potions ingredients and supplies - courtesy of some sneaky pillaging by Snape, it was all the space that the two really needed to complete their task.

Hermione and Malfoy had immediately begun to brew the Polyjuice Potion, just as Snape had instructed.

Though a complicated potion, Hermione had managed to brew it - as Snape had been so kind to remind her, quite successfully in her second year. More than anything, the potion required constant attention.

And so in the weeks that followed, Hermione either found herself stooped over a large cauldron, stirring and adding various ingredients, or on the nearby stone floor with a dozen or so books laying haphazardly around her while Malfoy attended to the potion.

On one such day, Hermione, laying prone on the floor, held up a rather ragged and ancient looking text and motioned with her hand at Malfoy.

"Are you sure that these are all the texts that we need from your library?" she asked, as she propped herself up on her elbow, laying down the massive book in front of her.

"Granger, for the hundredth time, _yes_, I am sure. And get off the floor, would you? It's driving me mad, " Malfoy replied, irritatedly. He walked over to the nearby bench, grabbed a vile, and emptied it into the cauldron.

"Well," Hermione said, ignoring his request, "If the library is as big as you said, I'm sure that there's something else that we could look into-"

"Granger, stop being so idiotic!" Malfoy yelled, cutting her off, "Do you or do you not recall the Death Eaters that were barging through the front door as we were trying to get out of there with our lives? Returning would be suicide. We have no idea if the place has been booby trapped since we were there. It's not safe," he added with a note of finality.

"Maybe not for you, but you aren't allowed to go anyways, are you? Snape specifically said that-"

"I know what Snape said!" Malfoy spat.

Hermione glared at him in silence for a long moment.

"Which is the reason," he continued, his voice slightly calmer, "why you are not going. You'd end up getting captured, and then I'd have to come and rescue you and our entire mission would be exposed!"

"Captured?" Hermione challenged, "What makes you think _I'd_ be captured? And even if I was; I certainly don't need _you_ rescuing _me_," she spat.

"Oh, of course. That's why Potter exists, is it not?"

Hermione scowled and returned to her book.

Malfoy allowed himself a triumphant smirk before he returned his attention to the potion.

Soon after her arrival to Muron Castle, Malfoy had informed Hermione that he had taken what he believed to be the most important texts about the Dark Arts from the Malfoy Private Library.

With the help of Snape, they had removed the texts several months prior, in hopes that they might discover any additional information on Horcruxes. He and Snape had brought about sixty tomes to the castle, but it was becoming increasingly apparent to Malfoy, that Hermione was thoroughly engraged that the entire library hadn't been emptied.

"If there _are_ more texts on the Dark Arts in that library, then we really should consider-" Hermione pressed on, clearly not willing to drop the subject.

"Granger! It's only been a few weeks! What is so difficult to understand? We haven't even gone through a quarter of the books that we have here! Just give it a break!" Malfoy shouted as he cut her off again.

Hermione pushed herself into a sitting position on the floor and grabbed angrily for her book.

She knew that it was foolish to try to return to the manor with the possibility of any number of Death Eaters waiting for them, but the thought of all those books just laying in the dust-waiting to be discovered...

That, and she couldn't help but provoke Malfoy.

After all, there were six years of yelling, cursing, and hexing one another that were working against her. Plus, the look on Malfoy's face every time she brought up that he couldn't leave the castle.

_Priceless. _

_A picture truly is worth a thousand words._

Hermione had only read through about five of Malfoy's texts thoroughly. They were surprisingly difficult, and she welcomed the new challenge with eager anticipation. But a few of the passages she discovered on specific torture methods were incredibly disturbing and she was hesitant to continue any further.

"What did you expect, Granger? They are books on the _Dark Arts_! They aren't going to instruct you on how best to train your Pigmy Puff," Malfoy laughed when she had told him about the insert.

"It's incredibly revolting," Hermione said, disgustedly.

Malfoy merely shrugged, "Those are Death Eaters for you. Can you now see why I wasn't running like mad to join them?"

Hermione eyed him skeptical before returning to the text.

And in only two weeks time, Hermione learned a few things about Malfoy that she found incredibly perplexing.

Firstly, that it was usually _she_, and _not_ Malfoy that started the majority of their arguments.

_When did I become so bitter and unforgiving? _

_He's at least trying to be civil. Why am I always provoking him?_

And secondly, and perhaps even more disturbing than her first revelation, was that Malfoy was undeniable intelligent.

_Sweet Merlin. _

_How did I not notice? Has he always been this clever?  
_

_But then again, how could I have ever known? The only words that came out of his mouth when we were at school were, 'filthy little mudblood'._

But there was no mistaking it. Malfoy was intelligent.

On several occasions, Malfoy had been working on something for the Polyjuice Potion and Hermione had stepped in to instruct him.

"Make sure that you do a counterclockwise stir, on every third stir."

Or,

"If you cut the root away from you it will exude maxium potency."

But before the words could even come out of her mouth, Malfoy would cut her off.

"Yes, Granger. I know," he would say.

At first, it seemed to amuse him.

"Honestly, Granger. Did you think that Snape gave me all those house points in Potions just for the hell of it?" Malfoy laughed, incredulously.

She was about to point out that Snape was the very _definition_ of being biased when it came to Slytherins and Gryffindors, but held her tongue.

Instead, she shrugged.

After awhile, Hermione's _near_ interruptions just seemed to annoy him.

"Granger. I'm not an idiot. Give me some room to breath or you're going to ruin the whole potion," he would snap.

And Hermione would eventually relent, and return to her cheerful book about various methods of torture.

_Let's see...what chapter was I on? Oh yes, "Using the least amount of effort with maximum results: The Cruciatus Curse and it's multifaceted techniques."_

Out of habit, Hermione couldn't help but look up every few minutes to make sure that Malfoy was brewing the potion correctly. So accustomed as she was to doing practically everything for Harry and Ron in school, that to sit back and let someone else do the work was an odd adjustment.

And the fact that he was actually _capable_ was an even stranger concept.

_He wasn't joking. He really would have been Head Boy.  
_

As if sensing her musing, he had said with a slight grin, "Just relax and read, Granger. I've got everything under control. No doubt it's quite a strange sensation to you - letting someone else that is competent do the work. You were _always_ helping Potter at every turn."

And Hermione would roll her eyes.

Malfoy was always careful never to bring Ron up. She wasn't quite sure what was holding him back - he never failed to miss an insult at Ron in the past.

_Respect for the dead, maybe? _

_Or the fact that I would hex him so badly that these torture books would look like child's play?_

Regardless of the reason; Hermione was grateful.

Ron was always dreadful at potions.

One particularly stormy afternoon -_ when is it ever not stormy here?,_ Hermione found herself reading yet another text about various Dark Art methods while Malfoy was working busily with the Polyjuice Potion.

Stretching slowly, she marked her spot in the book, and set it down, gently.

"Find anything useful?" Malfoy asked, as he adjusted the temperature of the cauldron.

"Not unless you count the seven different ways to successfully decapitate someone," Hermione replied, ruefully.

Malfoy chuckled quietly.

"And I thought I had read everything there was to know about decapitation," she said as she stood, "Clearly, I've been misinformed."

"Well, Granger," Malfoy teased, "I'm not sure I've ever heard you admit you were wrong about anything. I think congratulations are in order."

"Yes, thank you. I do try," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes as she headed for the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Malfoy asked, as he looked up from the simmering cauldron.

"To get some proper food," she sighed, rubbing her stomach, "I'm starved. I can't live off celery and Saltine Crackers anymore, Malfoy. Where did you say that town was?"

"You're not going by yourself," Malfoy warned, as he strode over to where Hermione was standing.

"Well, seeing how you're not supposed to be going anywhere, I daresay that I will be going by myself," she said defiantly, as she took a step closer to him.

"Granger..." Malfoy warned.

"What? It's the middle of the afternoon, what could possibly happen? I haven't had a decent meal since I've been here, Malfoy! And if you don't tell me where that town is, I'll find it myself," she said, defiantly.

Malfoy was silent a moment before he spoke.

"Fine," he relented quietly, "Let me just get you some money."

Hermione looked up at him in surprise. She had been preparing for a much longer argument.

_Maybe he's more mature than I give him credit for._

_Or, maybe I'm more immature than I'm willing to admit.  
_

They climbed the spiral stairs in silence, and Malfoy quickly disappeared to the west side of the castle - presumable to his quarters to snatch the money.

He had refused to tell Hermione where his room was - only heaven knew why. And despite her best efforts, she had never been able to find the damn place.

"Why won't you just tell me where it is?"

Curiosity _always_ did get the best of her.

"What are you trying to hide? A pink stuffed owl, perhaps?" Hermione had asked him when he refused to tell her.

"Why are you so curious to know, Granger?" He shot back, with agitation in his voice, "Hoping to walk by and catch me without a robe?" he added with a smirk.

Hermione had not mentioned it once since that moment, curiosity or not.

She was pulling her cloak on when he returned down the west staircase.

"Here," Malfoy said, as he reached out to hand her the money.

He seemed slightly hesitant.

"Muggle money?" Hermione questioned, as she looked down at the coins.

"It's a muggle town," Malfoy replied.

"Oh," she said, feeling slightly foolish.

_Of course it would be a muggle town. Malfoy wouldn't be able to go anywhere remotely close to wizarding societies.  
_

"Thanks," she replied, taking the coins from him, "Anything you'd like, in particular?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment before he questioned, "Fire whiskey?"

"Bloody typical," she scoffed as she walked to the massive front doors, clearly annoyed, "That's just what we need - you in a drunken state while we're trying to do research."

"Granger, wait!" he called as he ran after her. He gently caught her arm before she reached the doors, and Hermione shot a strange look at him.

_That's the first time he's touched me since he literally dragged me into this place._

_Which is, completely irrelevant, of course._

"What?" she spat.

He seemed to be struggling how best to articulate whatever it was that he was trying to say.

"Just...be careful, ok?" He said, quietly while looking at his feet.

_That certainly wasn't in the cards._

Hermione regarded him silently for a moment before she spoke.

"Malfoy," she finally said, "I'll be fine. As hard as it may be for you to comprehend, I really can take care of myself."

He was beginning to argue before she cut him off, "But, thank you."

And he stared at her as though he were taking in every minute detail of her face.

When the lightning from the outside storm flashed, Hermione irrelevantly noted tiny blue specks that were randomly scattered across Malfoy's gray eyes.

It was difficult to look away.

Finally, she remembered herself, and grabbed the handle of the massive door, "If I'm not back within the hour send the search party," she said, lightly.

Malfoy's face was expressionless. Clearly, he wasn't fond of the joke.

"You won't be able to apparate until you get past the black boulder that marks the entrance to the clearing. The town is called, Hanoock," he informed her, "Remember, it's muggle."

"You don't have to worry, Malfoy. Muggles are just my type, remember? Maybe I'll run into mum and dad," she joked.

Malfoy attempted to smile, but it came out all wrong. He silently nodded her on.

Pulling her cloak as tightly to herself as she possibly could, Hermione strode into the blustery storm. Somehow over the howling wind she could have sworn she heard him say, once more,

"Be careful."

_You're imagining things again, Granger. Weren't you the one that told Harry that hearing voices wasn't a good thing?_

Hermione struggled to the apparation point as best she could; the wind was nearly as strong as it was the night she arrived at the castle. She stumbled several times and fell to the ground twice.

_Please don't let him be watching from the castle. He'll never let me live it down._

Hair whipping in her face, she pulled herself off the damp ground and made for the clearing. As soon as she reached the black boulder; she apparated.

Opening her eyes after the momentary dizziness, Hermione took in the unfamiliar surroundings of the small town.

Small was a very generous understatement.

_Can this place even qualify to be called a 'town'?_

From what Hermione could see, the 'town' consisted of a handful of shops that paralleled a narrow, muddy road. On the left side of the street was a bakery that appeared to be tightly wedged between a pathetic excuse of a market store, and a structure that almost looked like a blacksmith shop.

_Have I apparated back one hundred years, as well?_

And then through the rain, Hermione saw a few shephards herding their frightened sheep into a nearby stall, followed by two clearly distraught border collies.

_Of course! Northern Scotland is still largely full of herding colonies. It's their livelihood._

As Hermione clutched her cloak tightly around her chest and made her way towards the market, she had to suppress a smile.

She could scarcely imagine Malfoy interacting in such humble surroundings. And if she hadn't been living with him for the past two weeks in a drafty castle with little supplies, few luxuries, and no house elfs, she would have never believed it.

_Point to you, Malfoy.  
_

Then again, six years living in hiding from everyone you ever knew, probably broke you in rather quickly.

A small bell sounded as Hermione pushed herself though the door of the market store. An elderly man wearing a dirty apron over his clothes greeted her with a shaky smile.

"Foul weather for a young lady like yourself to be out in," he said by way of greeting, in a thick Scottish burr.

"Don't I know it," Hermione returned with a small smile.

"I've never seen you in Hanoock before. Just passing though?"

"How'd you guess?" Hermione asked, as she heaved a nearby sack of potatoes over her shoulder.

"Well, I'd say that I know just about every person in Hanoock. It's a small town, you see," he said, with a wink.

Hermione chuckled as she set the potatoes down on the counter and walked towards the back of the store.

"Anything I can help yeh find, lassy?" he asked, as he rang up the potatoes.

"No, thank you. I'm sure I can manage just fine," she replied over her shoulder.

Hermione wanted to have as little interaction with the people of the town as possible. The more inconspicuous she was, the better. And she wasn't feeling particularly like obliviating anyone's memory today.

As she stood on her tip toes to grab a box of muffin mix, her eyes caught the front page of a newspaper on a nearby stand.

She nearly toppled over as she scrambled over to the stand, and picked up the paper with shaky hands.

**MASS KILLINGS ACROSS BRITAIN  
27 DEAD.  
POLICE STUMPED, DIRECTOR SAYS.**

_Northern Scottish Gazette journalist Seamus Worthington Reports:_

_"We're at a loss as to what happened, really," Police Chief Alan Hawthorn stated  
at a press conference yesterday evening in London, after the bodies of twenty-seven  
British citizens were found in their homes, murdered. _

_"Two families of six, a family of five, two families of three, and two separate couples were all  
found dead in their homes, either late last night, or in the early hours of the morning,"  
Chief Hawthorn continued. "The one aspect that is consistent in all of the murders, is  
that the specific cause of death is uncertain."_

_Stranger still is that the victims live in various locations throughout Britain, with  
no clear connection to one another. "We're not yet sure if this is a target on a single  
group of individuals here. The victims come from various racial backgrounds, and  
both men, women, and children were killed. So as of right now, it's not looking that  
way." Chief Hawthorn stated._

_"The one thing that we do have to go on," he continued, "is that every single one of  
their homes had some kind of forced entry. With five of the homes, it appeared that the  
front door had actually imploded. Scotland Yard has sent out a small task force to all of the victims' homes.  
This is an issue that we are taking very seriously."_

_Meanwhile, the bodies of the victims have all been transported to London and will each  
undergo an autopsy. The Metropolitan Police Force is not yet giving out information as to what  
condition the bodies were in, once found._

_"That's not really our primary concern right now," Chief Hawthorn stated, "What we  
need to worry about right now is that there is a killer, or a group of killers that are  
breaking into peoples homes and killing families - children included. It is of our utmost  
priority to make sure that these people face justice,"_

_Story continued on B2._

Hermione stood, staring at the paper, long after she finished reading the article.

_Muggles. They're going after muggles again. But, why now?_

She quickly grabbed a few more items and returned to the front of the store, unceremoniously dumping them in front of the elderly man.

"Do you need any help out with all of this, ma'mam?" he asked, as he finished with the last item.

"No, thanks," Hermione replied quickly, handing him the money while balancing everything in her arms as best she could.

"With those potatoes, it'll be awfully heavy," he pressed, as he came around from the back side of the counter.

"Really, I'm fine. Thank you, though," Hermione said, while she was pushing the door open. The little bell rang once more.

The weather outside was actually worse, if that could at all possible. Dark clouds loomed ominously low as the rain continued to pound the muddy road. Trudging through the thick mud, Hermione felt the weight in her arms grow heavier as she neared the outskirts of Hanoock.

_Just a few more yards..._

The last few yards were painstakingly slow. Breathing loudly as she hauled her load uphill, she finally made it out of the sight of the town. Completely breathless, she apparated.

_More rain._

That was Hermione's first thought as she arrived in the clearing by the black boulder below Muron Castle. She didn't have time to have a second thought. She immediately collapsed, dropping everything she was carrying.

She lay there on her back for a few moments as the rain pounded mercilessly on her face.

_Just lovely. _

Not seconds later, Hermione heard the pounding feet of someone rapidly approaching.

"Granger!"

_Malfoy._

_Perfect. Now he's going to think that he needs to rescue me at every turn. _

"Granger!" he called again, almost frantically. This time his voice was almost on top of her.

Trying to preserve what shreds of dignity she had left, Hermione pushed herself up into a sitting position, just in time to see Malfoy fall down in front of her with an anxious expression on his face.

"What happened? Are you okay?" he demanded, looking her over, frantically.

His wand was drawn, and he eyed the surrounding tree line before turning his attention back to Hermione.

"I'm fine, Malfoy," Hermione replied, dismissively.

"I saw you collapse from the castle. You're not fine," he said, resolutely.

"Malfoy..." Hermione began, reluctant to continue.

_Afraid to tell him that the weight was too much? Why?_

_Because you'd never admit that you might ever need his help - that's why._

_And since when does Malfoy come to my "rescue" anyway? _

Despite the rain, Malfoy's eyes were boring into her own, urging her to continue.

_Fine. You win - just this one round. _

"I was carrying," Hermione began, icily, "a sack of potatoes, along with half a dozen other things up a hill in the middle of a muddy road, without being able to levitate them in front of muggles! It was...heavier than I expected."

Malfoy looked at her for a moment, trying to deduce whether she was telling the truth.

Finally he spoke, "You're...you're not hurt, then?" he asked.

"Other than my pride, no," Hermione admitted.

A small smile appeared on Malfoy's lips.

"Here," he said, as he stood, offering his hand to pull her off the ground.

"Thanks," Hermione replied quietly, brushing herself off as Malfoy gathered the scattered groceries.

"Come on, let's hurry," he said after his arms were full, "The storm's getting worse."

Hermione followed him across the grounds, watching carefully for the precarious jagged rocks that seemed to always best her.

A few moments later, they were walking through the massive doors of Muron Castle.

"Sit," Malfoy ordered, as he motioned in the direction of the main living room, "I'll put these away."

Hermione nodded as she took off her soaking wet cloak, and collapsed onto the sofa nearest the fireplace.

"_Incendio!"_ she said softly, as she directed her wand at the space. A crackling fire immediately roared to life.

Not five minutes later, Malfoy entered the room from the archway and stood near the fireplace.

He picked up Hermione's cloak from off the floor, muttered a drying spell, and hung it over the hearth.

"Thanks," Hermione said, again.

Malfoy merely shrugged.

"So was it worth going into town to get some food today to collapse and nearly faint from exhaustion?" he questioned as his voice quickly turned to anger.

_Why is he so angry? Is he actually pretending as though he cares about what happens to me?_

"I didn't nearly faint, Malfoy," Hermione retorted, as she sat up straight on the couch, "And _yes_, it was worth it," she added as she stood, walked over to her cloak on the hearth, and pulled out the newspaper article. She threw it to him forcefully, and sat back down next to the fire.

Malfoy caught the paper and immediately began reading. The crackling of the flames was the only sound heard besides the howling wind outside and Hermione watched Malfoy's eyes widen behind the paper. After a moment, he threw it into the hearth and began pacing.

"Do you think Snape was there?" Hermione asked.

"Obviously, Granger. What do you think he does when he's with the Death Eaters all the time? Bake cakes?" he snapped.

Hermione regarded him for a moment before asking, "Do you think that he killed any of them?"

Malfoy stopped pacing and found her eyes, "Possibly," he said quietly.

The anger must have been easily apparent on her face because Malfoy spoke again, "He doesn't have a choice, Granger. For him to keep up the pretense as a spy - you know he doesn't have a choice."

"That doesn't mean that I have to like it," Hermione said, with fire in her voice.

"No one likes it, Granger. Imagine being in his shoes for about five seconds...do you honestly believes he has it easy?" Malfoy challenged, angrily.

Again, the crackling of the fire was the only sound heard.

"No," Hermione whispered, softly.

"They're on the move again," Malfoy said as he started pacing once more, "The Dark Lord is getting closer and closer to penetrating the Ministry, and when he does..."

"God help us all," Hermione answered.

"We have work to do. We can't let it get to that point. I've _got_ to find that Horcrux," she added.

Malfoy's eyes softened at her response, "I'm going to check on the Polyjoice Potion. Stay here and get warm, if you like," he said as he walked towards the spiral staircase.

"No, it's fine. I'll help," Hermione said, as she stood to follow him.

The dungeon felt freezing compared to the warmth of the fire Hermione had just left. She briskly rubbed her arms as she picked up her book off the floor. Malfoy had immediately returned to the cauldron.

"Malfoy?" Hermione asked, as she set the book on her lap.

"Yeah?"

"What happened, I mean...you've mentioned your mother. But...is she ok? Is she...alive?" she asked.

Hermione had been wanting to ask that question from the very moment Malfoy had first mentioned his mother. But something had held her back. Somehow, she was almost afraid to know. If Narcissa had been tortured and murdered...she didn't want to see Malfoy's face, confirming what her suspicions were.

Malfoy looked up from the potion, "She's in Azkaban," he said simply.

"Azkaban?" Hermione exclaimed, "Why?"

"Relax, Granger. It's the safest place for her to be at the moment. With the Dark Lord and my father threatening to use her as a bargaining chip, Azkaban was the only place that we knew that they couldn't touch her. It was Dumbledore's idea, actually," Malfoy replied.

_Dumbledore's idea? _

"But...that must be..." Hermione started.

"Look, it's fine, Granger. Don't worry about it. She's safe. It may not be the Four Seasons, but she's safe. That's all that matters. When this is all over, she'll be free."

Hermione looked at Malfoy and suddenly something changed in her perception of him.

This man wasn't the boy that she knew back at school. He had loved ones to protect, just like everyone else in this war did. And regardless of everything that had happened in their past; none of it mattered anymore.

Voldemort and the Horcruxes. Nothing else mattered.

And in that moment, Hermione vowed that she wouldn't let their past dictate what the future would be.

_We're in this together, after all._

"But," Malfoy said, breaking the silence, "your parents, Granger...with the killings beginning once more...they really should, err...find somewhere to hide..." he trailed off.

And in that moment, Hermione could have hugged him.

Instead, she settled for a warm smile that crossed her lips.

"They went into hiding, long ago - just after Dumbledore's death. They aren't even in the country," she informed him, as she opened her book, "But...thank you."

Malfoy smiled softly as he added a vile to the cauldron.

Hermione returned to her book.

_Ok, Chapter Fifteen: Beyond Unforgivables: Uncommon Curses that can be the Wizard's Darkest Ally_

_Interesting._

And what she would never admit, was that some of the curses and methods of Dark Magic actually intrigued her.

_Well, it's good to know what you're fighting against, right?_

She continued to read in silence for some time before she came to a page with an incantation that made her stop.

_The Mudiaticus Curse: For Mudbloods._

_-The Mudiaticus Curse will show just how filthy a Mudblood's blood truly is. For best results, flourish your wand, utilize the standard "attack movement of motion" (reference chapter 4), and speak the incantation, "Sangre Immunda Procedo!"_

As soon as Hermione read the incantation, she immediately dropped the book, clutched her left upper arm, and let out a horrible scream.

Startled, Malfoy dropped a vile that shattered to the floor and was instantly in front of Hermione with a fearful expression on his face.

"What? What's wrong?" he demanded, anxiously, as Hermione continued to grasp her arm and rock back and forth on the cool stone floor.

"I...I just read...an incantation...in my head... and now my arm...," Hermione struggled between breaths, and then she doubled over with a quiet moan.

Malfoy, glanced quickly over at the discarded book and read the open page.

_Oh, shit._

"Granger! Let me see your arm!" Malfoy ordered with a panicked expression.

Pulling her into a sitting position, Malfoy gently tried to pry Hermione's hand off her arm.

It was completely red.

"Hermione, please, I have to see it!" Malfoy begged, frantically.

She was quite literally fighting against him until the mention of her name.

Hermione slowly opened her tear stained eyes and found Malfoy's.

She was shaking.

"Please, you need to trust me," Malfoy pleaded, "I'll do my best not to hurt you."

Closing her eyes tightly as she grimaced with pain, Hermione nodded and buried her head into Malfoy's chest as he slowly removed her stained fingers.

Blood was everywhere.

Steadying himself, Malfoy ripped the sleeve where the blood was gushing from. Quickly finding his wand, he pointed it at the gash in Hermione's arm and muttered a counter-curse.

Nothing.

_Dammit! Why did she have to read this curse, of all curses?_

Again, he closed his eyes and recited the incantation again, this time with more urgency.

Immediately, a light of brilliant blue erupted from his wand - so blinding that Malfoy had to momentarily close his eyes. Hermione tensed and softly whimpered into his chest.

As soon as the light subsided, Malfoy looked at the wound. It was still lightly bleeding, but the relief that consumed Malfoy was almost tangible. He quickly used his free hand to cover her arm, and Hermione jumped slightly at the contact.

"Hermione, I need to put some pressure on your arm to stop the bleeding. The worst is over. You okay?" He asked, gently into her hair.

Hermione nodded against him, and then extracted herself from his chest.

She sniffed loudly, and then whipped her face with the back of her hand, smearing blood across her face. Finally she found her voice.

"I don't know what happened..." she said, shakily, "I didn't even speak the incantation..."

"It's an extremely powerful spell...if you would have read it aloud, I don't think that...I don't think I could have stopped it," he whispered.

Hermione closed her eyes again, tightly.

"Does it still hurt? How bad is the pain?" he questioned, quietly.

Hermione opened her eyes and found Malfoy's, "Never better," she replied, smiling weakly.

Malfoy smiled slightly for a moment, and then his expression turned to one of anger.

"I'm such an idiot. I never should have let you read those books. I can't believe that I forgot about the muggleborn curses in there..." he trailed off.

Hermione's erratic breathing consumed all his thoughts, until he shook himself.

"_Accio _tourniquet!" He shouted, pointing his wand in the direction of the spiral stairs.

A few moments later, a tourniquet flew down the stairway and into Malfoy's waiting hand.

He shifted Hermione on his lap, while continuing to put pressure on her arm.

"A curse like the Mudiaticus cannot be entirely healed with magic. You'll have to keep this tourniquet on for some time to completely stop the bleeding," he informed her as he readied the cloth.

"I'm going to have to tie it tightly...it may be painful..." he said gently, as he met her wet, tawny eyes.

Hermione stared at him silently for a moment.

Then, she nodded, closed her eyes, and pushed her head back into Malfoy's chest.

Malfoy's stained hand slowly released Hermione's arm. It was still bleeding. Quickly grabbing the cloth, he deftly maneuvered it around the circumference of her arm and steadied himself.

_Please, let me do this right the first time._

With one deep breath, he fiercely tightened the cloth against her skin.

Hermione gasped, and clutched Malfoy's shoulder with her free hand.

She let out several shaky breaths and continued to hold Malfoy's arm tightly.

A moment later, she lifted her head up to look at him.

Malfoy's eyes showed something Hermione had never seen in them before. Something...indescribable. She was just about to speak when a silvery Patronus flew down the stairs.

A stag.

No, - a _doe_.

The doe opened it's mouth and spoke in Snape's grave voice, "Meet me on the Northern side of Blackmoor Forest. Both of you. Now."

After a moment, the doe vanished.

_Please review!!_

_A/N: A HUGE "thank you" to Gallivant for helping me with the how the police systems work over in Britain. I had been calling everything "the London P.D.", and apparently that's quite wrong. What can I say? I'm an ignorant American. Anyways, hopefully everything is all correct now so my friends and readers from across the pond will find this story slightly more bearable. Thanks! _


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione continued to stare at the space that Snape's Patronus had just previously occupied. Her breathing was still erratic; her arms still shaking.

_A doe?_

She chanced a glance up at Malfoy who was too, staring where the doe had just been, moments earlier.

His brow was furrowed, and his eyes were moving frantically back and forth, as though he were concentrating extremely hard on something.

Hermione tried to shift her position in Malfoy's grasp, but immediately stopped as pain unmercifully shot through her arm.

_Dammit! _

_Why now, of all the times that I could have read that bloody incantation! Now! When Snape needs us! _

She cursed quietly under her breath.

The sound seemed to snap Malfoy out of his reverie as he looked down at Hermione.

"I have to bring you with me," he said levelly, "It's too dangerous to leave you here...Snape could be summoning us because there are Death Eaters on their way to the castle..."

_Well, that works out just perfectly, because I wouldn't stay here anyways; mangled arm or not._

"...something must have happened. He's never contacted me with his Patronus before - something's not right," he added as he gently maneuvered Hermione out of his lap.

"How do you contact each other, then?" Hermione asked, wincing as she accidentally bumped her arm on the leg of the bench.

"The Dark Mark. Snape figured out a way to make a connection between just the two of us. Our Marks burn, but we are the only ones that can feel it," Malfoy replied, squatting in front of her so that their eyes were level.

"Do you think you can stand?" he asked, gently.

"I don't walk on my arm, Malfoy," Hermione replied, dryly.

He extended his hand to grab her good arm and then put his wand hand carefully around her waist, hoisting Hermione up so that she was standing.

Swaying momentarily; his arms caught her.

"You've lost a lot of blood; you'll probably be dizzy for awhile," he said, while still holding onto her.

"I think I'll be fine. Really, I'm feeling much better," Hermione said as she took a step forward.

Her knees immediately buckled, but Malfoy moved forward with such speed and precision, Hermione was quite surprised that he managed to keep her from colliding with the stone floor.

_Ok, so maybe this _once_, you're right. And maybe this _once_ you can help me walk._

_I feel like a bloody invalid._

Malfoy, with his arms still around Hermione, eyed her nervously. His face was nearly touching hers.

"Granger, I don't...we have to move. Can you please just swallow your pride for a moment? This is no time to argue." His eyes were silently pleading with her.

_Back to using 'Granger', now are we?_

_Why is it that the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end when you use my real name?_

Hermione nodded in response.

The moment her head stopped moving, Malfoy bent and placed one hand behind her back, while the other scooped her up from under the backs of her knees.

_Perfect. _

_If Harry could see me now..._

Her injured arm bumped against his chest when he took the first step up the spiral stairs, and Hermione hissed sharply.

"You okay?" He questioned apprehensively, "I"m sorry, Hermione, we have to hurry...I'll try to be careful," he said as he continued to climb the stairs with Hermione in his arms.

She nodded, too vaguely embarrassed to say anything else.

_At least we're back to 'Hermione' again._

As soon as they reached the top of the stairwell, Malfoy gently set Hermione down and brandished his wand.

"_Accio_ Nimbus 2001!" he said, loudly as his voice echoed throughout the castle.

"Your broom?" Hermione asked, panicking.

Malfoy nodded, "It's the quickest way to the apparation point, especially with you unable to walk."

"I can walk just fine-" Hermione retorted, indignantly, but was cut off by Malfoy's broom swooping in mere yards above her head.

Malfoy quickly grabbed and mounted the broom while holding his hand out to help Hermione.

She eyed the damnable object for a moment, while her head pounded.

Sensing her reluctance, Malfoy gingerly put his hand on the side of her face and gently motioned it upwards so that she was looking directly into his eyes.

"I know you don't like flying, but I swear to you; I will _not_ let you fall."

Silence.

_Of course not. _

_You're just saying that so I'll get on the retched thing. _

_And then I'll fall._

Hermione hesitated a moment longer, then moved to where he could help her mount the broom behind him.

_Why me?_

"You okay?" Malfoy asked, as he pulled out his wand.

_No, I'm not okay. I just had my arm nearly shredded into pieces and now I'm about to fly off into a torrential rainstorm - and by the way...did I mention that I HATE flying?_

"Yeah," Hermione replied quietly, as she wrapped her arm around his waist as best she could. Her right arm was already clutching to him for dear life, while her injured arm fell limply to her side.

"Ok, hang on tight," he said, and he pointed his wand at the massive doors.

"_Bombarda!"_

The great hinges gave way as a deafening crack resounded throughout the castle. The elephantine doors fell with an audible "thud" as dust rose where they made contact with the ground.

Lightening flashed in the distance.

And before Hermione had time to steady herself, Malfoy had kicked off from the ground and they were rocketing through the entrance and into the storm.

She closed her eyes tightly, and buried her face into the back of Malfoy's robes as they hurtled through the air.

_Ok. Think of something besides the fact that you're hanging precariously hundreds of meters off the ground...right - Hogwarts: A History._

Hermione was reciting chapter twelve under her breath as a sudden gust of wind made Malfoy drop, without warning, several meters. Her injured arm tried to grasp onto him, but with a sickening feeling of dread, she felt herself slipping off the back of the broom. Malfoy immediately switched hands as he continued to guide them forward, and with his left arm, he reached back and grabbed Hermione's thigh tightly to keep her from sliding any further.

With her right arm, she clutched the back of Malfoy's cloak, and pulled herself up so she was directly behind him again.

_See! I told you I would fall! _

_How are we not to the apparation boarder yet?  
_

Hermione knew that they had only been airborne for a matter of minutes, but it felt like an eternity.

Unexpectedly, she felt Malfoy push the broom downwards as they rapidly descended from the blustery storm.

And just as suddenly, she felt her feet touch ground. Her right arm was still locked around Malfoy as she reluctantly opened her eyes. Malfoy was trying to pry her arm off him as he dismounted the broom.

"Are you okay?" he yelled, over the howling wind.

Hermione nodded.

He looked over her uneasily as he grabbed her around the midsection and lifted her off the broom.

"We're going to side-along apparate. I think you're too weak to do it yourself," Malfoy hollered, as he steaded her.

_Of course. Just rub it in my face, why don't you?_

"Ready?" he asked, loudly as a particularly loud crash of thunder sounded in the distance.

Again, she nodded and closed her eyes awaiting the familiar pull of apparation. Almost immediately she felt herself being compressed into nothingness.

And even before she opened her eyes again, the first thing that she noticed was that it was completely silent.

The metamorphosis between the two locations was almost palpable.

Gone was the howling wind, the roaring thunder, and the noisy sea.

The only sound that Hermione could hear was the distant call of a bird's song.

When she did finally open her eyes, and despite the darkness of the towering trees, Hermione immediately recognized her surroundings as Blackmoor Forest.

This was the same forest that she had stayed in with Harry and the Order of the Phoenix. Slightly ashamed, she felt herself longing to be on the opposite section of the forest, sitting with her friends and colleagues. Hagrid would be telling stories of frightened first years, Lupin would be sitting quietly in his favorite arm chair, Tonks would be talking quite animatedly about anything that crossed her mind in that particular moment, and she had Harry would be together; like they always had been.

_Harry._

_I hope you're doing better than I am right now._

The light from Malfoy's wand brought Hermione back to reality.

"I don't know how we're supposed to find him; the forest is huge," she said, shakily.

The combination of the adrenaline that was shooting through her veins from the recent flying experience and the throbbing pain from her arm that made Hermione feel as though her heart and shifted locations and currently resided elsewhere, made her want to do nothing more than collapse on the forest floor.

_Focus. Come on. Are you an Auror, or not? You just need to focus.  
_

"He'll find us," Malfoy said, as he helped Hermione sit on a fallen log.

He stood and moved his lighted wand around the circumference of the area before returning to Hermione. Silently, he pocked his wand, and pulled his cloak up over his left forearm, exposing the Dark Mark.

"How does it work?" Hermione asked, quietly, as she leaned back so that the trunk of the tree supported her weight.

Malfoy eyed her anxiously for a moment before answering, "I still have the connection to the rest of the Death Eaters. When the Dark Lord summons them, I fill it burn, I just choose to ignore it; of course. All I have to do to contact Snape is to think of him, and him alone, and vice versa. It forms a two-way connection between us."

Hermione pondered that for a moment while her arm continued to pound.

"Then how do you know when it's Snape and not Voldemort?" she questioned.

Malfoy looked pensive for a moment before responding, "It burns differently. It's difficult to explain, but there is a distinct difference."

Too exhausted to ask any further questions, Hermione merely nodded and closed her eyes.

"Hermione...?" Malfoy asked, making her open them again.

_There it is again - why does it give me the chills?_

He was leaning close to her.

"Are you doing all right? Is the tourniquet holding?" he asked.

_I'm fine. Right? _

_Except that I feel as though I've been wrestling with a Blast-Ended Skrewt, but that's normal, isn't it?  
_

"I think I'll live," Hermione replied, instead.

"Hermione..." Malfoy warned, "You don't have to prove -"

"Why are you calling me that?" Hermione interrupted.

Malfoy was silent for a moment.

"Does it bother you?" he asked.

_No. _

_It sounds delicious in my ears and makes me feel something that I don't think I've known for years._

"No," she answered, "It's just...you've never used my name before."

Malfoy regarded her in silence for a moment.

"I figured," he began, "That since we will be spending a considerable amount of time together, risking our lives, and trying to kill the Dark Lord, that I should... try it out."

He smirked, "Well, that, and you scared the hell out of me and it just sort of slipped."

Hermione chuckled, softly.

"Maybe...maybe you should try it out too." Malfoy said, looking at his feet.

It was almost a whisper.

Hermione looked over at him, and found his eyes.

Again, there was that same indescribable expression that she couldn't quite pinpoint.

_What is it?_

Finally, she found her voice.

"Ok...Draco," she said, quietly.

And he smiled brighter than she had ever seen him smile before.

It reached all the way to his ashen eyes.

It was when he opened his mouth to speak that several things simultaneously happened at once.

A light and movement came from the left side of the clearing, Malfoy's eyes darted over to the direction of the light as he frantically tried to pull his wand from his robes, and a blinding spell flew from a deep, unseen voice.

"_Expelliarmus!_" the voice roared.

Hermione didn't have time to think logically.

If she had, she would have recognized the voice as Snape's.

_Then why would he be trying to disarm us?_

As it was, Hermione reacted on instinct.

Unable to immediately find her wand, she reached out with her right arm and screamed, "_PROTEGO!"_

The spell that had been heading straight for Draco rebounded noisily as it collided with the blue barrier that formed a protective shield around him.

Silence.

Draco's eyes instantly sought Hermione as she crumpled to the ground with exhaustion.

Running over to her, his head snapped back toward Snape, "What the hell was that!?" He demanded.

Snape strode into the clearing with black robes billowing in his wake.

"Are you implying that it was _my_ fault?" Snape challenged.

Draco reached Hermione and lifted her head gently off the cool, forest floor.

"Hermione?" He whispered quietly, "Can you hear me?"

Hermione's eyes fluttered momentarily before they focused on Draco's anxious face.

Draco rounded on Snape, "What do you mean?" he yelled, "How could it _not_ be your fault!? _You_ were the one that sent the spell flying towards _me_!"

Snape was quite literally shaking with rage as he knelt down to look Draco in the eyes, "_You_ were the one that failed to respond to the Mark! Thrice I instigated the summons on the Mark to obtain your exact location, and thrice _you_ ignored it! Don't you dare turn this on me, boy!"

Snape grabbed the collar of Draco's robes, causing him to very nearly drop Hermione back to the ground, "Don't you dare do that again! When I summon you, you are to respond immediately! Do you understand me? I thought you both were Death Eaters! I thought they had taken you! Do you understand that you could have compromised _everything_ that we have been working for?" he roared.

Snape's chest was heaving up and down rapidly as the heat of his breath became visible in the early evening air. He released Draco's robes as he took notice of Hermione for the first time since his dramatic entrance into the clearing.

Her forehead and cheeks had scattered patches of dried blood from where she had earlier smeared it across her face, the tourniquet around her arm was completely crimson, and her entire body was shaking.

"What happened?" Snape demanded, as his expression switched instantly from anger to concern. His nimble, ivory fingers reached toward Hermione's neck to feel her rapidly beating pulse.

Hermione tried to respond, but Draco answered for her.

_Why do my arms feel as though they each weight about one hundred pounds?_

"She was researching in some of the texts we brought over from my library," Draco said, as he lifted her head into his lap, "She read... the Mudiaticus Curse."

Snape turned his attention away from Hermione's shaking body and looked directly at Draco for several moments.

"Aloud?" he finally asked.

Draco shook his head, "No. If she had...I don't...I don't think that I would have been able to have performed the counter-curse."

Snape turned back to Hermione while addressing Draco, "There is a text back at Muron Castle," he said, while conjuring an unblemished tourniquet, "It contains the means to brew a potion to counteract the effects of this exact curse. As soon as you return, I want you to begin brewing it immediately - along with a blood replenishing potion. This takes precedent over the Polyjuice Potion. Do you understand?"

Draco nodded, "Which text is it?"

"Remedies to Dark Curses: A Potion Master's Guide . If I remember correctly, it's a smaller text with edges that are completely worn."

Hermione had been listening to the entire exchange between Snape and Draco with something close to amusement. They were talking as though she couldn't hear a single word they were saying. And what very nearly startled Hermione, even in her current state, was the gentleness and exact precision of Snape's nimble fingers as he tried to deduce what harm had been done.

_Who would have ever thought?_

"Do I get to brew it?" Hermione asked, lightly from her prone position on the forest floor. She had a slight smile, despite her shaking body, "I'm not yet sure if this one here is capable," she added as she gestured toward Draco.

Draco smiled softly, while Snape seemed to be out of the joke.

"No Miss Granger, I daresay you won't be doing anything for some time. Your insatiable thirst for knowledge proved dangerous in this instance," he said, regarding her darkly.

Hermione tried to shrug, but the movement jarred her arm, and she winced in pain.

Snape leaned slightly over her as he spoke, "I need to remove your bandaging. It's seeping through," he informed, "Try to hold still."

Hermione nodded while Snape undid her stained tourniquet. She watched Draco's face as Snape set to work on her arm, but Draco was fiercely concentrating on whatever it was that Snape was doing.

"There," Snape said, as he finished tying the new bandage.

"Thanks," Hermione said, quietly.

He nodded.

"That was... an impressive display of wandless magic back there, Miss Granger," he said, while still paying keen attention to her arm.

_A compliment? _

_How much blood have I actually lost?_

"Does it normally leave one so exhausted?" he questioned, quietly.

And in that moment, Hermione realized how truly rare a talent wandless magic was.

_If Snape doesn't know..._

_That means there aren't any Death Eaters that can do it...and likely Voldemort can't either._

_Greatest wizard of our time, indeed._

Hermione began to shake her head, but thought better of it as the pain in her arm hitched up again, "No," she replied.

"The amount of energy you exert in a spell is what is taken from you body. Normally it just leaves you slightly tired, but I think with what happened earlier...I was already weak. Well, that, and I've never used that much force in a wandless spell before...I thought you were a Death Eater," Hermione added, shakily.

"I am a Death Eater, Miss Granger," Snape's silky voice replied.

Hermione was about to roll her eyes at him, but then thought better of it.

Instead, she said, "I think...I think I can sit up now,"

Draco adjusted his position behind her, and gently helped her so that she was sitting erect on the ground. Dried leaves and twigs were now adorning her completely disheveled hair.

"Okay?" Draco asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Snape returned his attention to Draco, "I have already wasted precious time here," he said. "What happened? Why did you not respond? I was...worried," he confessed.

Draco looked vaguely embarrassed, "I'm sorry. It's my fault. I was...concentrating on Hermione..."

It was barely audible, but Hermione could have sworn as she looked at his angular face that he was blushing.

"I see," Snape replied, as he pulled himself into a standing position.

"What's going on? Why did you send your Patronus?" Draco asked, while still supporting Hermione.

"I sent my Patronus," Snape began icily, as he walked the length of the clearing, "Because, as we have just discussed, you failed to respond to the Mark. I knew that the doe would get your attention."

Draco swallowed, audibly.

"It was a risk - if you for some reason have been captured, my Patronus would have been a dead give away. But circumstances what they are, and the lengths of protection I went through at Muron Castle... it was a risk I was willing to take," Snape said, as he returned to stand in front of Draco.

"Then why did you summon us?" Draco asked, "You could have just relayed your message through the Patronus. It was dangerous to bring Hermione here in her condition."

Hermione was ready with a strongly worded retort when Snape cut her off.

_'Condition'? What am I? Pregnant?_

_Does he think I'm some sort of damsel in distress in need of rescuing?  
_

_Hell, no. I'm a Gryffindor, thank you very much.  
_

_Just wait, I'll be the one that's saving his sorry arse from here on out._

"While it was a risk, Draco, I couldn't compromise everything we've been working for by relaying this kind of information. It had to be in person."

"What's happened?"

This time, it was Hermione who spoke.

Snape regarded her briefly before continuing, "The Dark Lord," he began, "has become aware of Potter's and the Order's location here in Blackmoor Forest."

Hermione's hand immediately covered her mouth as she looked at Snape with a frightened expression.

"No," she whispered.

Snape nodded, "He hasn't been using Legilimency against Potter from what I can tell, but certain Death Eaters that have been stationed near the forest have been alerted to the Order's presence. The Dark Lord will act, quickly, I can assure you."

And then he addressed only Hermione, "You must send your Patronus and warn them,"

"If the Order falls, there is no hope."

_How wonderfully optimistic you are, Snape._

_No, he's just being realistic._

_Without the resources of the Order, the final battle won't be much of a "battle" at all. _

_Handfuls of Death Eaters and concourses of other dark creatures wouldn't take long to wipe out just the three of us._

Hermione shifted her weight as she reached into her robes to find her wand.

Meanwhile, Draco was looking directly at Snape, "Was it my father?" he asked, quietly.

Snape was silent.

"Tell me, Snape! Was it him that found Potter?" Draco demanded, now loudly.

"Yes."

"Dammit!" Draco yelled, as he stood, and pulled at his hair.

He paced back and forth on the edge of the clearing.

"If he can find Potter," he began, as he stopped in front of Hermione, "Then there's no question in my mind that he will be able to find us. He could be onto you, Snape."

"Draco, my position has not yet been compromised. And beyond that, you do not need to know," Snape replied before he turned back to Hermione.

"Miss Granger, if you please, time - quite literally, is of the essence.

Hermione nodded, as she brandished her wand.

_A happy memory. Let's see..._

Previously, Hermione had usually thought of Ron or Harry when conjuring her Patronus.

Now, however; a much more recent memory was encompassing her thoughts.

_Draco's face when I used his given name...his smile - so genuinely content._

"_Expecto Patronum!_" she shouted from her sitting position as a silvery vapor erupted from her wand and immediately took the form of an otter.

Snape's expression was urging for her to continue.

"Harry," Hermione began as she looked at the otter, "Please, for the love of Merlin, don't stall or think to ask questions. Your position has been comprised. The Order is in danger. Evacuate everyone immediately and destroy any evidence about you-know-what. He knows where you are. He will be coming."

Hermione then looked to Snape, who nodded his approval, and with a quick flick of her wrist, the otter vanished.

"Good," Snape said, "Now I must be returning. I should be able to detain the Death Eaters enough long enough to give Potter and the Order more time."

He turned to walk towards the edge of the clearing, "Miss Granger, do take care of yourself, and Draco...the next time I summon you, I expect a reply," he said before disappearing into the dense trees.

Hermione stared after him.

_Take care of myself?_

_What in the name of all that is holy has gotten into him?_

Draco was bending in front of her, "Do you think you can stand?"

_Didn't he already ask me that today?_

"I'll try."

Draco helped pull Hermione up as she struggled to her feet.

As she tottered precariously, a radiant light permeated through the entire expanse of the clearing as Harry's stag Patronus pawed at it's massive hoofs in front of them.

"Hermione," the Patronus spoke in Harry's voice, "Thank you. We've leaving as I speak. Please contact me when you can. I hope you're safe."

And then it was gone, leaving Draco and Hermione in the darkness.

"Come on," Draco said, breaking the silence, "Let's go."

And before Hermione knew anything more, she felt the familiar compression of apparation.

The flight from the apparation point by the massive black boulder back to Muron Castle should have been terrifying to Hermione. But she was too exhausted to even know or care that the rain was pounding mercilessly all around them.

She was mildly surprised that she was still conscious.

She recalled, vaguely, Draco carrying her through the great entryway.

She felt herself being hoisted up the endless stairs.

And she felt the comforting mattress beneath her back as she was gently laid down.

Hermione was just slipping mercifully into a blissful unconsciousness when she heard him speak, as clear as day.

"I almost lost you today," he whispered, brushing her hair from her face.

And that was all she knew.

_A/N: You know, it really is quite depressing that this story has over 700 hits, but hardly any reviews:( Please review!! The good, the bad, and the ugly! Send your thoughts my way! Thanks!_


	8. Chapter 8

The week following Hermione and Draco's trip to Blackmoor Forest was one of the most miserable Hermione had ever experienced.

_I've never felt so pathetically sheltered and babied in my entire life - and that's a life living with Harry and Ron._

In only seven days time, Hermione had been in about a dozen arguments with Draco - mostly regarding her competence to continue assisting in their research.

"My _brain_ is completely fine, Draco," Hermione had said icily, only four days after returning from the forest, "It's my _arm_ that's the problem, and even that will be right as rain in a day or two."

Draco was trying - yet again, to spoon feed her from the potion Snape had ordered him to brew.

The day she awoke, Hermione had offered to help finish brewing it, along with the blood-replenishing potion, but Draco had reacted as though she had just told him she was going to stroll up to Voldemort and ask whether he wore boxers or briefs.

"You shouldn't overexert yourself," he had said, "What use are you going to be to anyone if you can't even walk?"

"I can walk just fine, Draco!" She retorted, "That's what I've been trying to tell you!"

But Draco merely shook his head, and forced her to have another tablespoon of the foul potion.

Hermione was, quite frankly, completely taken aback that he was so concerned about her wellbeing.

It was unnecessary and embarrassing - the way he fussed over her arm; but at the same time, she felt strangely flattered.

"Unbelievable," she muttered under her breath, "At least give me something to read. I can still research while you're making me lie here, incapacitated."

"No, Hermione," he said with a note of finality, "You're not going near another book until I've looked through all of them, first. Do you want to come across another curse like the Mudiaticus?"

She stared at him, wide eyed, before she exploded.

"Dammit, Malfoy! I'm going to go crazy if you don't let me do _something!_ Would you stop being so overprotective for about five seconds? I already have Harry, the entire Weasley family, and the Order that play the role of "big brother" - I don't need to add you to the list," she snapped, angrily as grabbed a pillow in frustration and tossed it across the expanse of her room.

"So we're back to 'Malfoy', now, are we?" Draco spat irritatedly, as he stood to retrieve the pillow.

Hermione sighed in frustration, "Look, I'm sorry. Bad habit. I've been calling you 'Malfoy', for as long as I can remember, okay? Now, would you quit changing the subject? Either move out of the way so I can get out of this bed, or bring me something to read!"

But Draco wasn't about to relent.

"Would you stop being to damned stubborn! You are not going near another one of those books, and that's final! There are curses in there that could kill you, Hermione! _Kill you!_ What are you not understanding? I was a complete fool to let you read them in the first place! You're lucky that it was only your arm that was scathed!"

Hermione was about ready to boil over with rage.

Granted, Draco did have a point. Volumes on the Dark Arts were extremely dangerous for muggleborns to read.

And he was right - she was lucky that nothing _worse_ had happened to her.

But did that mean that she had to be bedridden for a week with absolutely nothing to do?

"Draco," she said calmly, though her voice was quivering with restraint, "I'll stay away from those books, but I want you to at least let me finish the Polyjuice Potion."

Draco regarded her for a moment before he set the vile of steaming potion down on Hermione's nearby nightstand.

It was a sickly shade of green.

"Hermione..." he began.

"Don't 'Hermione' me!" She interrupted, "That's the deal. Take it or leave it."

She folded her arms squarely across her chest, as though the action alone would prove to Draco that it was, indeed, an ultimatum.

He sighed, audibly, as he sat back down in the chair next to Hermione's bed. Finally, he looked up and met her eyes.

"If you swear to me that you will not go near those texts, then I promise you that you can do whatever you like with the Polyjuice Potion."

"Hell," he back peddled with a smirk, "I'll even let you pick the muggles who's hair we'll use."

_He'll let me. _

_That's rich._

"I'm so glad that you brought that up," Hermione said in an almost _too_ pleasant voice, as a smug grin appeared on her face, "There is a particularly plump and elderly woman in Hanoock that I saw when I was getting supplies. I think that she'll do quite nicely for you."

The smirk instantly fell.

He stared at her quietly a moment longer before saying, "Give me your word, Hermione."

She looked at him, quizzically.

"Give me your word that you won't go near those books," he reiterated.

"Look, Draco. I give you my word. What do you want me to say? Would an Unbreakable Vow put your mind at ease?" she added, sarcastically.

Draco's eyebrows shot up for an instant, as though he were considering the idea.

"You've got be to kidding," Hermione said, exasperated, as she took in his expression.

He shook his head, "No, I trust you. Besides, we'd need a bonder."

Hermione rolled her eyes, as she threw the covers off the bed and made to hop down the side.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked, as he firmly planted his hands on the top of her shoulders, pushing her back in a sitting position.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She asked, defiantly, as she reached up to lift his arms off her, "I'm getting up so I can check on the Polyjuice Potion. While you've been dillydallying up here all morning, the potion has probably been ruined! At very best, I will more than likely have to trace back three separate steps before adding the final ingredients. That alone could take days - and we're already behind schedule!"

Hermione was now standing, and walking the length of the room in her night robe, waving her arms wildly in the air as she vented her frustration.

"Or..." she said as she suddenly stopped, causing Draco to nearly run into her from behind, "I wonder..." she whirled around so quickly that Draco was startled to be standing a whisper's length from her face. "If the fluxweed was gathered precisely at midnight, it might have a counter effect since the potion has been stagnant for so long...there's always the possibility that the lacewing flies have..."

"Hermione!" Draco interrupted, as he grabbed her wrists. He noted, irrelevantly, that her arms seemed to take on a mind of their own whenever she was in the middle of a tirade. It was almost as though she didn't have control over them; like a cat's tail - constantly in motion. "Calm down, would you? I just checked on the Polyjuice Potion, and it's fine. It's nearly done. We'll be able to collect the hairs soon."

Hermione eyed him, knowingly.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Fine, I mean that _you'll_ be able to collect the hairs soon, since I'm not allowed to leave the castle - despite the fact that I'm twenty-four years old and have been taking care of myself since I was sixteen," he said, angrily.

Hermione's eyes softened in understanding, "Draco, you know that Snape's only - "

"Yeah, I know," he interrupted, loudly.

"Trust me, I understand, " he said, while sitting on the edge of Hermione's bed, " But that doesn't mean I have to like it. Snape puts his _life_ on the line every day of his existence and I...I sit here in the castle - doing nothing."

Draco had pulled out his wand, and began studying it intently, as his blond bangs fell down from his normally kept hair, momentarily obscuring his face.

Hermione regarded him in understanding before she walked over and sat on the bed beside him.

"Draco," she began, "We all have a part to play in this." Her sorrel eyes studied the length of his pale, smooth face. "Just because your part seems insignificant right now, doesn't mean that it is. We're all working together with the same purpose in mind."

He looked up from his wand and met her gaze. There were seven - no, eight, tiny freckles that dotted her otherwise flawless skin, just below the eyes.

Sighing loudly, he finally spoke, "I know. It's just...I wish I could do..._more._"

"You can," Hermione replied, cheerfully, "You can help fix the mess you made of the Polyjuice Potion."

"Hermione, that's not what I meant," Draco said, still fingering his wand.

She sighed, "I know what you meant, Draco. But do you now understand where I'm coming from? How you treating me as though you're my overprotective big brother is frustrating as all hell?"

Draco merely stared at her.

"I mean, this whole time - ever since I graduated from Hogwarts and became a member of the Order, _and_ an Auror, I've been treated as though I'm this fragile, breakable doll," Hermione said as she stood and walked over towards the warmth of the fireplace. "And Harry is just as bad as the rest of them. You don't think that I understand how condescending it is to be told, 'Wait here, Hermione, while we go check this out,' or 'Hermione, I think that we have enough members going on this mission, why don't you just rest here till we get back?', or...and this is my _personal_ favorite, 'Hermione, if anything ever happened to you, we wouldn't be able to live with ourselves!'"

Once more, her hands began to wave unknowingly in patterns around her head..

"Complete rubbish! All of it! Do you realize, Draco, the only person in the _entire_ Order that I have not disarmed in a duel is Harry? And, not to mention, that I am the _only_ one capable of doing wandless magic! And they think that _I _am the one that needs to be protected?"

Her chest was heaving up and down as she stood by the fire. And then, just as suddenly as it came on, the anger dissipated and she bowed her head, slightly ashamed of herself.

"I'm sorry," she said, quietly, "That was incredibly arrogant of me, wasn't it? I really don't feel as though I'm better than the rest...er, what I mean to say, is that...I just wanted to be treated..."

Hermione stopped speaking and chuckled to herself, "I'm being quite articulate, aren't I?"

A small smile appeared over Draco's bemused face.

And she returned, once more, to sit next to him, "I just don't want," she began, while eying Draco's wand, "...to be treated any differently than how Harry is."

Draco looked at her in surprise.

_How would it be to live in Potter's shadow all the time?_

_Perhaps the most brilliant witch of the epoch, being asked to sit on the sidelines for her own "protection."_

She was right. It was as condescending as all hell.

And in that moment, Draco realized that he and Hermione weren't so different.

Despite their 'blood', their past, and the plethora of differences that couldn't all be listed on a five foot roll of parchment, they were more alike that he could have ever dreamed.

Everyone in this madness had a part to play; and they both were just acting their parts.

It didn't mean that they had to like it.

"You know," Draco said as he pocketed his wand and turned toward Hermione, "Despite what anyone might say or think, we're very much the same, Hermione Granger."

Hermione wrinkled her brow in confusion, "How do you mean?"

"This war," he began as he turned to look out her window, "And the subsequent circumstances that followed, have dictated the roles we play. But you and I, we were both born to play a different part."

_Yes. That's it, exactly._

"You know, Draco, despite being a complete prat for the majority of the time, occasionally, you do manage to say something that is quite remarkable," Hermione said as she stood from the bed, "Now, if you would be kind enough to leave me for two seconds, I'd like to get out of this night robe."

Draco blushed deeply, as he quickly extricated himself from the bed, "I'll..just...er, be down in the dungeon, checking on the Polyjuice Potion."

He was out of the room within seconds.

_Odd._

_ Never would have taken him for the bashful type._

Shrugging out of her night robe, Hermione walked over toward the dresser that previously housed her over sized witches robes. She paused, slightly, as she tapped her lip, and then disentangled a deep, crimson robe from the tiny area.

She dressed quickly, and gratefully left the confines of her room as she headed toward the east staircase.

As she started down the steep cool stairs, her mind turned to the new perplexing enigma that was Draco.

_If someone had told me back at Hogwarts that not only would Draco Malfoy be singlehandedly helping me destroy Voldemort, but that we were on our way to becoming...'friends', I would have put a million galleons on it._

_And, right now I'd be destitute._

Hermione paused midway down the steps, and leaned her head against the cracked, stone wall.

_But are we friends?_

_Not really. But...not just acquiantances either.  
_

_We tolerate each other, we work well together, but does that make us 'friends'?_

_And what's more - his protectiveness - albeit annoying...is strange._

_And the indescribable look in his eyes..._

Hermione shook her head as she broke from her reverie and quickly continued down the length of the stairwell.

As she descended the spiral stairs that led to the dungeon, the potent scent of the Polyjuice Potion roughly assaulted her senses. She breathed it in deeply, relishing in the thought of applying herself to the task.

Draco was stooped over the boiling cauldron, steam obscuring his face.

Hermione smiled, slightly as she entered the modest room.

"So," she began, as she raised her head proudly, "I trust that you haven't _completely_ destroyed the potion."

Draco smirked, "Hardly. I've already told you, I am indefinitely more capable than Potter. Come see for yourself."

Hermione ignored the jab at Harry and strode forward to peer over the massive cauldron.

She scrutinized it briefly before turning to face Draco, "How much Boomslang did you add?"

He rolled his eyes in exasperation, "Honestly, Hermione," he said, extremely bemused, "I got an "O" in Potions."

"Is that so?" Hermione asked, folding her arms, and trying miserably to hide her astonishment.

Draco merely shook his head as he returned to the potion.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked as she moved to intercept his position in front of the cauldron.

Draco looked at her, quizzically.

"I'm taking care of the potion while you're looking through those texts, or would you rather I -"

"No!" Draco said, firmly, cutting her off, "No. I'll do the research. You...you finish the potion."

Hermione gave a slight smirk of triumph before she walked to the cabinet of the far wall to grab more ingredients.

_Let's see...how much horn of bicorn do we have?_

Hermione's deft fingers traced over various viles and bottles on the aged shelve that was adorned with cobwebs.

When she returned to the cauldron, Draco was leaning back against the bench holding the text, _Darker Matter: The Art of Trasfiguration._

They worked in silence for several minutes before Draco audibly turned a page, and made a slight noise of intrigue.

"What?" Hermione asked, as she rolled up her sleeves, "Find anything useful?"

"Nothing about Horcruxes, no. It's just an interesting passage on transfiguring dark objects that I've never read before," he said, as he pulled the text closer to his face.

"I still don't understand how you haven't read those books when they were just sitting in your home for ages," she said, while stirring.

"Honestly, I didn't want to have anything to do with them," Draco said from behind the great volume, "For me, embracing these texts meant that I was embracing the same fate and path of my father. I despised them," he added, as an afterthought.

Hermione nodded before she began to cough violently into the fumes of the potion.

Draco looked up from the text, "You okay?" he asked in bewilderment.

When Hermione finally found her breath, her eyes were full of tears, "Merlin, this stuff is strong," she said before she went into another coughing fit.

Draco smiled slightly before returning to the text. His eyes paused and reread over a particular section.

_"The most difficult and complex of all transformations is that of the Animagus. Dark Wizards throughout history have strongly supported the notion of the transformation. Grindelwald, himself, is said to have been quoted, saying that an Amimagi form is 'an invaluable asset when facing an opponent.' Methods on proper transformation techniques can be found..."_

"Hermione, that's it!" Draco exclaimed, loudly. The noise startled Hermione so greatly, that she dropped her wand into the potion.

"Oh sorry," he said, as he made to stand up and retrieve the wand.

"No," Hermione said, as she waved her hand, dismissively, "It's fine, I can get it."

And she stretched her right hand over the cauldron and said, with a firm voice, "_Accio wand!_"

Her wand flew from the boiling potion with such force, that it splashed goop and matter all over Hermione as she grabbed it.

Draco chuckled, loudly.

She shot a glare at him before pointing the wand at herself and said, "_Tergeo!_"

Immediately, her crimson robes were cleaned.

"It's not funny, you know," Hermione said with her hands on her hips.

"Of course not."

"Now, what did you find that was so important that nearly gave me a heart attack?"

Draco picked up the text and handed it to Hermione to read.

"You're letting me read this?" she questioned, while tentatively taking the volume.

He nodded, "This one is fine."

Hermione read over the passage he had pointed to, and looked up at him in confusion.

"I don't understand. What does this have anything to do with -"

But Draco cut her off, "An Animagus, Hermione! What an invaluable asset! Just like Grindelwald said! You should really consider..."

He trailed off, as Hermione's eyes turned to the size of dinner saucers.

"What?"

And then it hit him.

_Of course! How could I be so thick?_

"But you...you... have already perfected your Animagus form, haven't you, Hermione?"

Hermione roughly handed him the text before returning to the Polyjuice Potion.

"Haven't you?" he pressed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said as she pulled out her wand and began to stir the potion.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," he said as he moved in front of her and gently grabbed the sides of her arms - careful to avoid her bandage.

His determined eyes sought her now fearful ones.

_What is she so afraid of?_

"I know," Draco continued as he held her eyes, "that having an Animagus form is a requirement to be in the Order of the Phoenix. Snape told me once, long ago, so don't bother trying to deny it."

They stared at each other in silence for several minutes before Hermione spoke, "Yes, it's true," she said, so quietly that Draco had to strain to hear her.

He regarded her as she freed herself from his grasp, and continued to work on the potion.

"So what's wrong? You're acting as though I've just told you that you have a Death Eater for a brother. Hermione, if anything, this will help us tremendously. I...I can only use my Animagus form under very specific circumstances..."

But Draco never finished. He watched as Hermione stared blankly into the potion.

"Hermione?" he asked, gently, "What is it?"

But Hermione was not listening. Her mind was wandering far away to several years earlier in a moment she had long since forgotten.

_"Well, come on, Hermione! What are you? We haven't got all bloody day!" Ron yelled._

_"Ron, I can't..." she replied._

_"Hermione," Harry began, "It can't be that bad! We've already seen you at your worst, and that was in second year when you were half a cat! It can't be any more horrible than that!"_

_"Yeah," Ron pipped in from around a large tree, "And we've shown you ours. Blimey, I can't believe that you're a stag, Harry! Just like your dad!"_

_"I was hoping it would be the stag," Harry said, quite obviously pleased with himself, "Now come on, Hermione! It can't be any more embarrassing that Ron's. He's a bloody unicorn for crying out loud!"_

_"Watch it Harry, or I'll run you through with this here horn, and we'll see how funny it is," Ron replied angrily._

_"If you don't come out from behind those trees, Hermione. We'll just come find you. Come on, we're your best friends!" Harry said, as he walked closer toward where she stood._

_"Fine!" Hermione yelled. "It's just...it's just that the form is all wrong for me! I don't understand!" she said, as she finally came around the side of a gnarled tree._

_Harry and Ron's mouths both hit the floor._

_"Bloody hell, Hermione," Ron said._

_"Hermione, you're a...you're a..."_

_"I know!" she screamed, cutting Harry off. "How can it be! It's all wrong!"_

_"Hermione, it's bloody brilliant!" Ron cried, as he walked closer towards her._

_Harry nodded, in agreement, "The form chose you, perfectly, Hermione. Now it's up to you to learn to use it."_

"Hermione! Hello, earth to Hermione! Is there anyone in there?" Draco's voice asked as Hermione shook herself back into reality.

"Err...sorry," she said as she looked up at him.

"Where'd you go?" he asked, bemused.

Hermione was silent for a moment, "Back to when Harry, Ron and I first joined the Order, and were trained how to become Animagi."

"Oh," Draco said, quietly.

There was a tangible silence between them.

"Did you...er...I mean," Draco began as he looked at the stone floor, "...did you love him? Weas - er...Ron, I mean?"

Surprised by the question, Hermione looked up, startled into his ashen eyes.

"I mean, you don't have to answer, of course, I was just...I mean...I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..."

"Yes," said Hermione, simply.

"Oh," Draco said, again.

Silence.

"Were you," he began again, "..._in_ love with him?"

Again, silence.

"Yes."

Draco nodded, as he searched her eyes before turning his head away.

"I'm sorry. I can't even imagine - "

But Hermione cut him off, "It's okay."

And then she didn't know why she did it.

She had never spoken of Ron before to anyone - not even Harry. Maybe a part of her wanted to protect Harry from it - he was, after all, Ron's best friend. But since Ron's death, Hermione had never spoken of her feelings, had never confided in anyone - and suddenly, now more than ever, she felt that her chest would explode if she didn't say something.

"It's okay," Hermione said, again as she sat on the stool near the cauldron, "It's really...it's not so bad anymore."

Draco looked at her, puzzled.

"It's kind of like," Hermione began as she looked at the bandage on her arm, "...like a horrible wound in the beginning. The pain is so real, and so intense, that it feels as though you won't even be able to breathe again. You can't catch your breath...almost as though...everything is on fire, and all that you can hope for is to never feel anything, ever again."

Draco frowned as she continued to pick at her bandage.

"But after awhile...the wound isn't quite as deep. It still hurts, but nothing like how it did in the beginning. You feel this dull throb that always hitches up at the most inopportune times...when someone mentions their name, when you pass something familiar...when you hear their favorite joke...It's just like when you bump your arm, and you're reminded of that pain that didn't really happen all that long ago."

Hermione finally looked up to find Draco's eyes.

"And then, I imagine, that the pain eventually fades. You still have the memories, and all that you can remember is the good - never the bad. Because that's the way you want to remember them. And finally, after everything, all that you're left with.." she pulled at her bandage, "...is a scar."

Draco's eyes never left Hermione's.

In one graceful moment, he closed the distance between them, pulled Hermione off the stool, and embraced her. He closed his eyes as his face buried into her hair, "I am _so_ sorry," he said.

Hermione's brow was furrowed in confusion against Draco's broad chest. This action of affection certainly wasn't how she expected him react.

But what had she expected?

For him to smirk and say, "Tough luck"?

No. That would have been Malfoy.

This was Draco.

"Hey," Hermione said, as she pulled away from him, "Hey. It's okay. I've come this far, haven't I? I've gotten through it. And I _will _continue on. I've got to go on with my life. I've got to keep moving. Voldemort is still out there. I can't just lie here and play dead. Now is the time."

Draco brushed a loose strand of Hermione's thick hair behind her ear.

"Now is the time," she said again, firmly.

He nodded.

"Yes it is. Now is the time we face our past, our fears, and the future. And speaking of fears..." he trailed off.

Hermione looked up at him, in confusion.

"Your Animagus. Whatever it is, I know that it frightened you."

"Yes," she confirmed.

"Show me," Draco asked, quietly.

Hermione looked as though she was fighting some inner turmoil.

"Please, show me," Draco said, again.

Hermione nodded as she stepped back from him. She walked with her head bent to the far corner of the room.

"Harry and Ron were the only ones that ever saw," Hermione said as she turned so she was facing him.

"It's okay," Draco said, calmly.

She nodded, again.

Suddenly, there was a brilliant bright light that emanated from where Hermione was standing. Draco's vision was obscured, and he put his hand in front of his face to shield his eyes from the light. When the light subsided and Draco's eyes finally adjusted, he looked at the space Hermione had just occupied.

Standing and staring right at him, was a griffin.

_Please Review! I live for reviews, and my canteen is running on empty!_


	9. Chapter 9

_"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do."_

_-Elenore Roosevelt_

A griffin.

_Extraordinary._

Draco could scarcely believe his eyes.

And then, just as suddenly as the griffin appeared, a light flashed, and once more, Hermione Granger stood before him.

They both stared at each other in silence.

After several moments of quietude, Draco finally spoke, "Hermione...that's...well, it's incredible! I don't see why you're so -"

But Hermione cut him off, "_That_ Animagus is all wrong for me! Have you completely forgotten how much I hate flying?" she snapped, as she walked towards him, "You cannot even _begin_ to comprehend how much I hate it - no, _loathe_ it."

"Or" she added, softly, after a moment, "... how much... how much it frightens me."

"Why does it frighten you?" Draco asked, quietly.

Hermione's head looked to the ground with shame, "Because...it's something...that I can't control."

Draco regarded her in silence for a moment, "Well, then what you need is a flying lesson."

Hermione's head shot up so quickly that Draco was mildly surprised that it didn't snap right off.

"What?" she asked.

"You heard me, a flying lesson. Everyone has to face their fears, don't they? Besides, I won't let anything -"

"Draco," Hermione cut off, "No. We don't have time to go gallivanting around like idiots when there are more pressing matters we need to attend to. The Polyjuice Potion, for one."

"Hermione, the Polyjuice Potion is nearly done. All it needs to do now is simmer."

Hermione stared at him, blankly.

For the first time in recent recollection, she didn't have a counter argument.

_Damn._

"Yes...but...I think that it needs to be stirred more properly. You left it for hours this morning...I want to make sure that -"

"Hermione," Draco interrupted, "What was it that you just told me? _'Now is the time.'_ You can't run from your fears forever. Eventually...everyone has to face their demons."

Hermione stared at him in something close to a panic.

"Don't worry," he said again, "I promise I won't let anything happen to you."

"As comforting as that sounds, Draco," she scoffed, "That's much easier said than done. There are way too many circumstances out there for you to be making that kind of assumption."

"Well, those are ordinary people that make ordinary promises. When a Malfoy gives you his word, it's as good as gold," he teased.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Heaven help me. Well I suppose that_ that_ above all else should make me feel better about the whole scenario."

Draco regarded her quietly before reaching his hand out and resting it under her chin. He gently tilted her head up so that she was looking directly at him.

"Hey, no worries. When it comes to flying, I'm something of an expert," he said with a smirk.

Now_ that_ got an exasperated sigh out of Hermione, "Oh Merlin. Here we go," she said, sarcastically.

"So, are we going to do it?" Draco asked.

Hermione raised her eyebrows, "Going to do what, Draco? You might want to rephrase that...I'm not exactly certain what you're trying to imply by that," she said, suggestively.

Draco immediately blushed a brilliant red.

"Oh...er..what I meant to say was - "

"Yes, I'll do it - fly that is," Hermione cut him off.

"Really?"

She sighed deeply, as the inner turmoil still raged within her.

_He's right. _

_It's time I faced my demons. _

"Really, really. After all, this morning I couldn't get you to let me out of my bed. Now you're offering to let me hang precariously off a cliff. I guess pickers can't be choosers," she said with a smirk.

Draco chuckled softly.

"Let me just make sure that everything is set for the PolyJuice Potion to simmer. I don't want the temperature to fluctuate, otherwise, we'll be retracing our steps - yet again," Hermione said while fiddling with the flames beneath the cauldron.

After a moment, she looked up and walked towards him.

"Ready?" Draco asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be, I assure you."

Hermione scaled the spiral steps slowly, deliberately.

She was quite literally shaking with fear.

_Getting cold feet again, Granger?_

_Haven't you been wanting to prove to him since the moment you arrived here that you were not only capable, but fearless and bold - ready to take on anything at a moment's notice?  
_

_Then, why am I still shaking?  
_

_It's time to stop running. _

_Time to face the fear.  
_

When they reached the top of the stairs, Draco walked into the main entryway, pulled out his wand, and shouted, "_Accio_ Nimbus 2001!"

Immediately the black broom was soaring into his outstretched hand.

"You know," Hermione began, doubtfully, "I'm not sure how you can help me fly when you'll be riding a broom, while I, on the other hand, quite literally have wings that are spouting from my spinal cord."

Draco shrugged, "Trust me," he merely said.

"There's one I've never heard before," Hermione replied, as she walked through the massive front doors and into the blustery afternoon.

"Do you think it's too windy?" she asked, as Draco appeared beside her.

He shook his head, "No. It'll actually help. You'll be able to rest on the currents. You know, like when you see birds gliding along without using their wings. They're riding those currents - expends less energy."

"Yes, I understand the concept," Hermione replied, snidely, "So...what now?"

Draco was looking around as the wind ruffled his blond hair, "Let's go down closer to the tree line. It's probably not too bright an idea to be near the cliff when you're first learning," he said as he walked forward, his dark robes flowing carelessly in every direction.

Hermione slowly followed.

Her heart was pounding so strongly against her chest, she was surprised that it hadn't yet burst through her ribcage.

_You can do this. _

_Now is the time._

_Focus._

_This is just a problem that needs to be worked out. That's all. _

_Just a problem._

Draco was patiently waiting by the tree line as Hermione slowly sauntered over.

"Cheer up, Hermione. You look like you're marching to your own funeral. It's all in your head. Flying is fun - you'll see," he said with a grin.

_That's doubtful._

"Ok, so why don't you go ahead and transform and we'll get started," Draco instructed as he strapped on an old pair of Quidditch gloves.

They were silver and green.

Hermione frowned, "I still don't know how you're going to be of any help. A broom is completely different."

"How do you know? How many times have you ever been on a broom in your entire life?" Draco asked as he straddled his broom.

_Less than ten._

"And how many times have you flown as a griffin?" Hermione retorted, "I doubt that the same principles apply."

"That's where you're wrong," Draco said matter of factly, "It's the _exact_ same principles. Whether you're on a broom, or it's your own wings, you're still flying. And that's all I want you to think about. Don't think about the physics of it, and for Merlin's sake, don't analyze anything in your head...just feel."

_'Just feel' he tells me. _

_That's a riot._

Draco was still looking at her expectantly, "Well? Are you just wanting to sit here all day? I could go and get us a nice spot of tea while we're out here," he said, sarcastically.

Hermione glared at him, pocketed her wand, and closed her eyes.

Mere seconds later, she stood before him, as a griffin.

Draco still appeared to be mildly surprised seeing her in such a way.

His eyebrows were high up on his forehead, obscured by his blowing bangs.

"Do you just want to sit here and stare at me all day?" Hermione asked in her slightly, deeper griffin voice, "Or would you like to take a photograph - it'll last longer."

Draco shook his head and walked over to her.

"Spread your wings for me," he instructed as he stood beside her.

Hermione tentatively obeyed.

As she slowly lifted her wings off her back, a strong gust of wind came and nearly lifted her off the ground.

Immediately, she folded her wings flat against her back, and shook her massive head, "No. No way. It's too windy! I...I don't think I can do this!" She hollered over the wind.

Draco moved so he stood directly in front of her.

He looked knowingly into Hermione's bright, griffin eyes.

Somehow, they still retained the same color.

"Yes, you can."

Hermione shook her head and clawed nervously at the damp ground.

This time, Draco gently slid his fingers into the feathery mass that was her cheek, "Yes, you can."

She stared deeply into his own eyes.

_There it is again! That look! _

_I can't quite put my finger...er...my claw on it..._

"Try again," Draco said, interrupting Hermione's reverie.

Tentatively - methodically, Hermione spread her wings.

The wind blew fiercely around them, sending Draco's hair and robes into a fit, and ruffling Hermione's chestnut feathers.

Hermione could feel the wind blowing beneath her wings - the sound of it rushing loudly over her sensitive ears.

And suddenly, bewilderingly, her griffin senses took over.

The wind was no longer her enemy. It playfully toyed with her loose feathers, enticing her to atmosphere above.

She could feel the power surging within her wings as blood flowed to their extremities.

And like a thoroughbred before a race, stamping with the anticipation of the gun shot; quivering with excitement before the gate is finally opened, Hermione raised her wings, and lifted off the damp ground.

_Freedom._

She tottered to the right momentarily before she flapped her great wings and hovered on a current directly above Draco.

"There you go!" He was shouting, while he kicked off from his broom. "That's brilliant!"

But Draco was the farthest thought from Hermione's mind.

The moment she realized that she and the wind were one, and tasted of the delicious freedom invoked by the endless sky; this flying business turned into something completely _glorious_.

Hermione raised herself farther upward - her powerful wings taking her further with each audible beat. Muron Castle loomed directly in front of her, and she sped forward, pulling her wings closer to her body as she weaved in and out of the castle spires with increasing speed.

"Woo hoo!" She screamed as passed by her very own tower. The sound that emanated from within her, however, was the cry of the griffin.

Nearing the edge of the cliff, she looked down to see the tumultuous waves crashing powerfully on rocky beach below; and directly ahead of her, the sun hung low in the horizon.

_This is incredible!_

_The sun, the wind, the power...  
_

_Is this what I have been missing all this time?_

_Or is it just the griffin in me talking?_

Then suddenly, without warning, a strong gust of wind came from beneath the cliff, and knocked Hermione of balance.

Her wings were sent flaying in an odd position, and before Hermione knew anything else, she was immediately tumbling to the ocean below.

Straining with all of her might, she tried to spread her wings to catch them on the current - but the pressure of the air was too great, and she was rapidly gaining speed as she plummeted towards the sea.

As Hermione looked up at the great expanse of the cliff that was now above her, she saw Draco, clutching his broom, and in a complete nose dive several meters above her.

_"Draco" _she wanted to call out, _"Don't! You'll never be able to pull my weight!"_

But almost like a trick of the eye, Draco unexpectedly discarded his broom, and continued to fall towards her.

_What the hell?_

"Draco!" Hermione called, but the sound and speed of the wind muffled her voice.

It barely sounded louder than a whisper.

_This is it. _

_This is how it's going to end._

_How many times have I had that thought before? _

_A fair few...but this...when I hit the water...it will be like hitting concrete. _

_Oh, Harry...please forgive me. _

And as Hermione looked upwards to take one last look at Draco before she collided with the merciless waves, a bright light emanated from within him, and with one great roar, a massive, black dragon appeared in his place.

_ Sweet Merlin._

_Can it be? _

Draco, in his fully transformed dragon body, quickly overtook Hermione with a single great burst of speed, and suddenly, he was beneath her.

Hermione turned around as best she could with the rapidly, unpredictable gusts, and plunged her claws into Draco's scaled back, just as he pulled upward.

The shift in momentum was so great that Hermione slammed hard against him, and her claws slid several inches as she clung on for her life.

Draco let out a great roar of pain, as her claws embedded themselves further into his back.

With a great strain of effort, he pounded his translucent wings and they ascended slowly upwards. After what seemed like an eternity, Draco climbed over the ledge of the precarious cliff and collapsed loudly on the ground.

Hermione immediately retracted her claws and moved to get off him.

"Draco!" she screamed, as she changed from her griffin transformation.

She shook his massive onyx shoulder as he opened one reptilian eye and regarded her, "I thought," he began in a deep, profound voice, "that I asked you to stay away from the cliff," he concluded dryly.

And instantly, he was Draco again.

Blood covered the entire expanse of his back.

"Oh! Draco, I'm so sorry! Here, let me help you inside!" Hermione pleaded.

Draco used his arms to prop himself up to a 'push-up' like position, while he rested, momentarily, until Hermione reached around his chest and hauled him to his feet.

She walked him steadily toward the castle until they passed through the expansive entryway.

"Draco...I am _so_ sorry, I feel awful...I can't even begin to -"

"Hey," he cut in, "If it got you off your feet and flying, then it was worth it - trust me."

Hermione frowned as she sat him down on the entryway sofa that was closest to the fireplace.

She reached into her crimson robes, pulled out her wand, and pointed it at the fire.

_"Incendio!"_

She then turned her attention back to Draco.

"Take off your shirt," she instructed.

Draco smirked up at her from the sofa, "So, let me get this straight. First, you dig your nails into my back while screaming, and _then_ you ask me to take my shirt off? Don't you have it backwards?"

Hermione looked briefly appalled before she crossed her arms and frowned.

"Draco, I need to see how bad the -"

"Hermione, I know," he smirked, while removing his shirt, "It was just a joke."

_Not funny._

The damage was bad, but not horrible.

Draco had two pairs of gashes running down several inches of his fair skin.

Hermione bent down, peering closer, as she quickly lighted her wand to ascertain how deep the wounds were.

"Look, Hermione," Draco began, as he turned around so that she was face to face with his bare chest, "There's a salve down in the dungeon that I've used on cuts before. I'm sure it will work just fine for these."

Normally quite articulate, Hermione had a difficult time retaining Draco's gaze, as her eyes kept wandering down to his exposed skin.

"No, Draco," she said, finally managing to maintain eye contact, "These should be healed first, and then we'll use the salve. I know a healing spell that will do just the trick."

Draco rolled his eyes and turned back around.

Hermione placed her left hand on the small of his back to get some leverage as she held up her wand.

The slight touch caused Draco to shiver.

"Sorry," Hermione apologized, "My hands are always cold."

Draco nodded as he gazed into the fire.

He was fairly certain that it wasn't the temperature of her hands that had given him the chills.

Hand still on his back, Hermione muttered the healing spell. A pale, violet light gradually appeared from her wand and slowly made it's way into the deep grooves of his back. After only a few seconds, the cuts magically sealed themselves together, and all that was left were two faint, pink lines.

"There," Hermione said, quite satisfied with herself, "I'll just go get the salve. Which shelf is it on?" she asked, as she headed toward the spiral stairs.

"It's fine, I'll go get it," Draco said, as he strode forward.

"No!" Hermione replied, loudly, "This is my fault - I'll do it. Just sit here and don't do anything stupid. Now which shelf is it?"

Draco rolled his eyes as he sat back down on the sofa, "Are you always this damn stubborn?"

"Yes. I'm surprised you're only just figuring this out," Hermione replied with a too sweet smile, "Now which shelf?"

"Third one from the top, on the left side. It's in a round container with a red lid."

Hermione was already on her way down the steps before Draco could even finish his directions. She returned within a few moments, holding the round container.

"Okay," she said, while unscrewing the lid, "Either lay face down on the sofa, or stand up so I can put this on."

"Really, Hermione, you don't need to -"

"And how exactly do you suppose that you'll put it on your own back? Now turn over," she demanded, as she read the label of the container.

Draco muttered something under his breath before changing his position.

"Happy?" he asked, into the sofa pillow.

"Very," she replied, while still reading the label, "Hmm...that's interesting...will sooth all lacerations, burns, cuts, bruises..." she trailed off. She was silent for a moment before speaking again, "I've never even heard of this stuff before! Who created it?" She asked, while looking on the bottom of the container.

"Snape," Draco replied, once again, into the pillow.

"Snape," Hermione repeated softly, as she dug her two middle fingers into the goop, "He may be a prat, but the man really is brilliant."

"Don't let him hear you say that, because you'll never hear the end of it," Draco warned.

"You don't have to tell me twice. I still haven't informed him that I can actually tolerate his presence. I wouldn't dream of complimenting him - I'm taking it one step at a time," Hermione replied as she knelt down beside the sofa. She scooped up a descent amount of the salve and began to gingerly rub it into the pink areas on Draco's back.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" he yelled, as he nearly flew off the sofa, "That stuff is freezing!"

"For the love of Merlin! Lay down and stop being such a baby!" Hermione ordered as she placed her free hand on her hip.

Draco shot a glare at her before obeying.

This time, Hermione blew on the salve before applying it to Draco's back.

"What are you doing that for?" he asked.

"I'm warming it with my breath, since you've insisted on being such a whimp."

"Oh." Draco replied, as chills involuntarily raced down the length of his spine.

Hermione worked in silence.

The only sound Draco heard was Hermione's steady breathing and the crackling of the fire behind him. Her nimble fingers were ever soft and gentle on his back. He had never imagined in his wildest dreams that such a simple touch could create such a feeling of euphoria and peace.

_ Peace._

_When was the last time I felt that?_

_Likely never.  
_

"There," Hermione said as she screwed the lid back on it's container, "All done. How does it feel?" She asked.

Draco propped himself up on the sofa so that he was eye level with her kneeling form.

The flames from the fire reflected and danced in her sorrel eyes.

"It's fine," he replied, as he took in her hair, her face, her scent.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that I'm looking forward to the next time you decide to try to kill yourself and I have to rescue you and you dig your six-inch claws into my back..."

"You did _not_ rescue me," Hermione replied, defiantly.

"Oh really?" Draco asked, clearly intrigued, "Then what would you call it?"

"I call it," Hermione began, pensively, as she tapped her lip and looked at the fire, "I call it... you making me do something that was clearly terrifying for me, and I had a brief, tiny, minuscule little moment where I lost my concentration, and you...merely...had to intervene. But that's completely different from a rescue."

Draco looked at her, completely bemused, "Oh, forgive me. You are quite right. That is different."

"Yes, I know," Hermione said with a soft grin.

"But 'terrifying'? Don't try to kid yourself, Hermione. I _saw_ you. I could see the excitement in your eyes. For Merlin's sake! You nearly did a barrel roll around the spires of the castle!" he said, exasperatedly.

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment before she spoke, "Yes...but I don't think that it was really _me_."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...it wasn't me. It was as though...as though the griffin had taken over all my fears. And the only instinct that I had...was to fly."

Draco regarded her warily, "So it was the '_Griffin Hermione'_ that liked flying?"

A small smile appeared across Hermione's face as she looked at her knees, "I've never felt anything like it before in my life. There was such...freedom, and...and life...it was as though there was nothing else in the world but me and the sky. No Voldemort, no Death Eaters, no nothing. It was...incredible."

Draco smiled warmly as he sat up on the couch, looking down at Hermione. "Well, you're very much the real Hermione now. Tell me," he said softly, "Do you feel any differently about it when you're just... 'you'"?"

Hermione looked up as the flames moved across his pale, smooth face.

"No."

Draco smiled, widely, "See?"

He was clearly pleased with himself.

"We've only been tolerating each other for what? A month now? And I get you to love flying. Potter has had...about what? Thirteen years?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and she pulled herself from off the floor, "Don't bring Harry into this. You don't even want to _know_ how many times I've refused to get on a broom with him. If he knew I'd been flying - never mind that fact that I enjoyed it; he'd have a coronary."

Draco smirked as he stood to pull his shirt on.

Hermione regarded him inconspicuously until the shirt was firmly in place, "So what about you? How long...I mean, when did you first transform? And _how_ the bloody hell are you a dragon?"

He chuckled, lightly, "Not long after Snape and I went into hiding and first came to this place, he taught me about Animagi transformations. As I'm sure you remember with your own transformation, it took me several months to get it right. I think he was just as surprised as I was about the dragon. It's really an inconvenient form, though - too noticeable. Can you just imagine me flying nonchalantly around London?"

Hermione chuckled, "It wouldn't be much different from when Harry and Ron drove that magical car to Hogwarts in the middle of broad daylight."

Draco scowled, "I always wondered how they got away with that."

Hermione shrugged, "Lots of people being obviliated."

She paused for a moment as she pensively stared into the fire, "It's quite rare to have a magical creature as an Animagus form," she stated.

"You're a magical creature," Draco pointed out.

"I know," she said as she turned to face him, "And so was Ron. He was a unicorn - don't laugh, please. It just seems odd to me...if it's so rare...I find it difficult to believe that I know of three people who have magical Animagi - myself included."

Draco shrugged, "It doesn't make a difference. The form chooses you. There's nothing to be had for it."

Hermione nodded in agreement, "I know. It's just _strange_ is all."

She looked toward the spiral staircase.

"Well," she began, changing the subject, "I glanced at the Polyjuice Potion when I was getting the salve. Everything seems to be fine. I'll bet we can finish it by the end of the week. But until then..." she yawned, "I'm exhausted. I feel like I've been using muscles that I've never used before - go figure."

Draco walked slowly to where she stood, nearly catching his robes on fire, so close was his proximity to the fireplace, "You should turn in. I'll check the potion once more before I go to bed,"

Hermione smiled softly, "Thanks. Oh, and uh...thanks for, you know..._intervening_ today."

Draco returned the smile, warmly, "No problem. Just don't let it happen again," he teased.

"Fat chance. Next time it will be me _intervening_ to...assist _you_."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, _Granger_," he said with a knowing smile.

"Right back at you, _Malfoy_," she replied as she turned to head up the east stairs.

Her footfalls sounded quietly on the stone floor.

"Wait, Hermione!" Draco called behind her, causing her to turn around on the second step.

Hermione noted, irrelevantly, that they stood at the exact same height.

His soft lips, just -

_Woah! Where the hell did that come from?_

"Yeah?" she asked.

"Umm...well, I...err..."

"Are you always this articulate?" Hermione asked.

Draco blushed.

"Umm...I guess I just wanted to say, 'thanks', for helping with the salve...Snape's not so keen on rubbing it all over me..." he trailed off.

Hermione smiled, as she placed her hands on Draco's shoulders.

"I'm pretty sure it was the least I could do...considering the fault was mine in the first place."

"Right," he said, still staring at her eyes.

"Good night, Draco," Hermione said as she turned to head up the stairs.

"Good night," he said, staring after her.

Draco continued to stare up the stairs long after Hermione closed the door to her room.

"Sweet Dreams," he whispered.

_Please review!!_


	10. Chapter 10

"Would you hand me that vile?" Hermione asked, as she stirred the boiling potion.

Draco looked up from the text he was reading, _Dark Minds of the Twentieth Century_, and walked over to where Hermione was motioning.

"Does this work?" he questioned, holding up one of the shelf's contents.

Hermione looked up from the potion. Her thick hair was sticking to her now sweaty face as the steam from the cauldron continued to rise.

"Yes, that will do fine."

Draco walked over and handed her the vile.

Hermione took it gratefully, "Looks like it's all done," she reported, happily.

Draco smiled as he turned back to his book.

But rather than focusing on, _Chapter 5: Grindewald: A Driven Destiny_, his mind wandered over the events of the past week.

It had been one hell of a week.

_Now there's the understatement of the century._

While waiting for the Polyjuice Potion to finish simmering, Draco had insisted that Hermione continued to hone her flying skills.

And at first, she was extremely hesitant.

"Why are you stalling?" he had asked her, "Don't you dare deny that you weren't having the time of your life up there."

"No, I was...it really was brilliant, it's just that...what...what if I get caught in another gust? That was a close call..."

But Draco cut her off, "Trust me. I'm keeping you away from the cliff until you've figured everything out. Do you think I enjoyed the acupuncture you inflicted on me? We'll go down by the tree line."

And so, they flew.

To her own startling amazement, Hermione was gaining agility and finesse by the minute - her long time fears of flying seemed as though a distant nightmare of the past.

She dove and climbed, twisted and turned, until her trembling wings could no longer lift her off the ground.

Draco, already a proficient flier, was extremely impressed by her progress.

"There's another good day's practice. You're doing brilliant Hermione, really," he had told her.

"Draco," she panted, a few days into her training, "I can't go an inch further. My wings are...burning. I don't think I've ever been so exhausted in my _entire_ life - and I went through the Auror Training Program!"

Draco, in his fully fledged dragon form, landed abruptly beside her, "You're using muscles that have never been used before," he said while retracting his massive wings, "It will take a little time to build up their strength. And anyway, I don't think that the A.T.P. is as horrible as everyone makes it out to be," he scoffed, dismissively.

Hermione, now completely transformed, was ready to retaliate.

"Come on, we'll take a rest," Draco quickly cut in, pointedly avoiding the inevitable argument.

And every night, they returned to Muron Castle with Hermione barely managing to walk on her own accord, while Draco checked over the Polyjuice Potion.

"Sweet Merlin," Hermione had groaned, while gingerly rubbing her lower back, "I feel like I've been trampled by a herd of rampaging Hippogriffs."

She plopped down on her favorite sofa by the fireplace with excessive gratitude.

Draco had smiled down at her, "Don't sweat it. Before long, you won't be able to feel a thing. The muscles build up quickly."

"Yeah," Hermione grimaced as she shifted her position, "Well, 'quickly' can't come soon enough - I don't want to feel anything at _all_ right now. Tell me again why we don't have any fire whiskey?"

He chuckled lightly, as he sat on the edge of the sofa, "Because you told me that you'd murder me with your bare hands if I drank any, you might recall. But if you're changing your mind..."

"No," Hermione said firmly, "I'll tough it out."

"That's what I thought."

Hermione glared at him from her prone position on the sofa.

"Hey," Draco teased lightly, "If if makes you feel any better, you're getting quite good. I can't believe I'm saying this...but you're a natural - just like everything else that you do, of course," he added with mock sarcasm.

"I am not a natural at everything," she retorted, indignantly.

Draco looked at her with incredulity.

"Sure you are. You were the brightest witch at Hogwarts and - "

"Because I worked hard!" Hermione shouted defiantly, as she pushed herself into a sitting position, "Not because grace had _so kindly_ bestowed knowledge upon me. It was because I read and studied and threw myself into the work...not because I was a _'natural'._"

Clearly affronted, she folded her arms and settled back into the soft, malleable sofa.

Draco was extremely bemused.

_Why do women always make it so damned hard to give a compliment?_

He looked down at her in her emerald robe - his favorite, and regarded her quietly. He had a feeling that despite the extensive effort, work, and studying that she had just mentioned - beneath it all, Hermione Granger was still completely and utterly brilliant.

_Have you always been so afraid to acknowledge your accomplishments? _

Her eyes had now closed, and her breathing was deep. Her dark lashes were resting comfortably against her freckled cheek. A chestnut curl had fallen from it's proper place, and was strewn recklessly across her cheek. Draco leaned forward to move it, but stopped, abruptly.

_What if she woke up? _

He chewed nervously on his lip before he lost a fruitless but valiant inner battle and went to move the curl.

It was astonishingly soft.

More so that he would have ever imagined.

He tucked it gently into it's proper spot behind her ear and leaned...even closer.

Closing his eyes, he breathed her in. She smelled of...

Suddenly, she moaned quietly in her sleep, causing Draco to back up in alarm.

Eyes still closed, she settled back into her slumber. Her full lips, slightly parted...

"Hey!" Hermione shouted from the cauldron.

Draco jumped in alarm and dropped his book. He was clearly startled from her recent memory that had constantly been playing through his mind since that moment, two nights ago.

"Whatever you're reading better be good," Hermione said irritatedly, as she tilted the massive cauldron on it's side, "I've been trying to get your attention for the last minute and a half."

Draco was now standing on his feet, brushing off his robes, and shaking his head.

"Err...I was just..."

"I've read _Dark Minds of the Twentieth Century_," she continued as she struggled with the hefty pot, "though I don't remember being as completely engrossed in it as you just were."

Draco blushed slightly, but then regained his composure, "Well, may I ask what was _so_ important that you needed my undivided attention?"

Hermione scowled, "What I was _trying _to tell you, while you were off in Neverland, was that I just finished with the last vile. While I was _failing_ to get your attention, I was hoping to have _your help_ with moving the cauldron," she said, while giving the pot one last, massive heave. "All we need now are the hairs," she added, whipping her brow with the back of her hand.

Draco was still reeling with the embarrassment of Hermione catching him in a daydream. But as reality settled around him, he cocked his head and stared at her, "Why didn't you just levitate the cauldron?"

Hermione laughed ruefully, as though he had just told an extremely amusing joke, "And deal with the mess as it spilled on it's hinges? I don't think so. Plus, we can't afford to lose any of the potion - it takes ages to make. We may not have time like this again where we can dedicate an entire month to brewing it."

"You still could have levitated it," Draco said stubbornly, as he squished a spider that had been running frantically across the stone floor with his shoe.

Hermione rolled her eyes, exasperatedly, "Well, regardless of what I _could _have done, everything's finished. I'll go upstairs and get my cloak. The wind is blowing like there's no tomorrow out there, and I want to be in and out of Hanoock as quickly as possible."

Draco's expression instantly changed, "Hermione..." he began.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin! Not _again_," Hermione complained as she strode up the spiral steps, taking them two at a time, "Draco, I'm going to get hairs from muggles, not up to Voldemort to challenge him to a duel. I'll be fine," she hollered over her shoulder.

But Draco was right behind her, "I wasn't going to say anything!" he retorted as he came to the top of the stairs.

"Yes, you were," Hermione countered as she whirled around to face him, "I _saw _that look. Trust me, I know the _look._ Harry has it perfected."

Draco scowled, "Please, whatever you do, do _not _compare me to Potter."

Hermione sighed, loudly as she pulled out her wand, _"Accio Hermione's cloak!"_

Draco was still frowning as Hermione grabbed her cloak from the air.

"What?" she asked, as she pulled her arms through the sleeves.

"Nothing," he shot back.

"Fine," she said, while crossing her arms.

"Fine," Draco mimicked.

"Well," Hermione said, as she walked purposefully to the massive front doors, "I'll be back in a bit, then."

And with a skillful flick of her wand, the doors creaked open on their great hinges.

The wind blew in several dried leaves that swirled around Hermione's dark cloak as she walked through the entryway.

"Wait!" Draco called, as he jogged to catch her.

Hermione turned, slightly annoyed, and looked at him quizzically.

"Be careful, okay?" Draco implored.

Hermione tried her best to fight her eyes from rolling, but to no avail. "I'll do my best, Draco - but I'm not making any promises," she said with a smirk.

This time, Draco rolled _his_ eyes.

"See you," Hermione called over her should as she strode into the tempestuous dusk.

Draco stood like a statue framed by the massive post and lintel with his robes billowing around him as he watched Hermione shrink into the distance.

Without warning, in his now atmospheric perspective, the small form of Hermione transformed into a fabulous beast that flew skillfully to the apparation point.

Despite himself, Draco smiled.

"Show off," he muttered quietly.

When he could no longer see Hermione, Draco returned to the cool confines of the castle.

Immediate he lighted a fire with his wand, and then strode down the spiral stairs to the shadowy dungeon.

The pungent smell of the Polyjuice Potion filled his senses as he turned to the corner bookcase, which housed a sizable portion of the Malfoy Library texts.

He deftly ran his fingers over the spines of the retched tomes until he stopped on the very one he had been seeking - hidden surreptitiously in the shadow of a larger text.

_The Darkest Secrets: A Pureblood's Guide to Immortality._

Draco pulled the thick volume from it's place on the shelf as dust seeped in from the empty space it created.

Brushing off the front cover, he re-read the title.

_...Immortality..._

Draco remembered seeing this particular text in his old library - most notably in the hands of one, Severus Snape.

"Reserve caution in reading the books in here, Draco," Snape had told him, long ago.

"Some will lead you on a dark path - to a bottomless pit of torment of which there is no end. But there are some, however," he paused, as he looked up from the dusty tome with his piercing ebony eyes, "...that can bring redemption."

Snape had fingered the text lightly before returning it to it's proper place - high on one of the innumerable shelves in the library.

That had been the summer before his sixth year at Hogwarts.

Draco had largely forgotten Snape's warning during his infamous final year at school. For his part, the text had been long since forgotten, until a certain day several months ago when he and his former Potion's professor emptied the Malfoy Private Library. Snape had grabbed the abandoned tome from it's precarious residence on the high shelf and gave Draco a knowing look.

"This book is dangerous to muggle-borns," was all he said, before unceremoniously tossing it into a pile with the rest.

Draco had nodded, and immediately hid the book where he was certain Hermione wouldn't see it. He had given her an ample selection of texts to choose from when she first arrived at the castle, knowing her curiosity at the given texts and thirst for knowledge would win out. Unfortunately, there was one volume in with the rest that proved just as harmful - and which he blamed himself for.

Opening the book, he found where he had last marked his place, walked over to the old wooden bench, and began reading.

He read in silence for several minutes, scratching the back of his head with his wand, until he came upon a footnote.

And there is was- hidden perfectly. Disguised so that you would _just_ miss if if you weren't careful enough. In small fine print - where horrible teachers, like McGonagall, would draw questions for tests.

_Horcruxes: Known means of destruction:_

_1. The Avada Kedavra curse._

_2. Fangs of a basilisk._

_3. Powerful magical objects (See Notes Below)  
_

_Although a vague description, a widely popular theory regarding the subject of the destruction of Horcruxes, are magical objects so powerful that they destroy the Horcrux beyond repair. Popular speculation includes: The Sword of Gryffindor (location unknown), The Sorcerer's Stone (location unknown), flames from The Goblet of Fire (held in the Ministry of Magic), and the actual wand belonging to the witch or wizard who created the Horcrux. _

And that was it.

Before Draco could even begin to comprehend the implications of what he had just read, he heard the massive entry doors open and slam shut above him, followed by delicate footfalls gradually crossing the expanse of the entryway above and stopping at the top of the spiral stairs.

"Draco?" Hermione's voice called out from the stairs, "Are you down there?"

"Yeah, I'm here," he shouted a reply.

Hermione's footsteps continued down the stone stairs until her windswept head peered around the corner.

Her hair was a complete disaster.

Draco looked up from the text, slightly amused, "It looks like you were blown all over Scotland," he smirked.

Hermione scowled, "I practically was. Getting some of those hairs was more difficult than I anticipated. I managed to get the clerk's hair who runs the market place while he was bending over to pick up a bag of flower, the pudgy elderly woman that I already told you about that will be your new alias, the blacksmith's hair, two townspeople that were walking through the mud - "

"Hermione," Draco cut off, "I found something."

Hermione, who looked slightly affronted that Draco had interrupted her while she was reiterating the lengths that she had gone through to get the hairs, immediately looked intrigued the moment her brain processed the statement.

"What is it?" she asked, eagerly, as she set several small bags down on the bench.

Draco held up the text so that she could read the front cover.

"_The Darkest Secrets: A Pureblood's Guide to Immortality?_" Hermione questioned, as she squinted to read the verbiage, "I've never seen this text before."

Draco nodded, "I know. Snape specifically told me when we were emptying the library that this particular one is dangerous to muggle-borns."

Instead of looking frightened, Hermione simply looked all the more intrigued.

"What does it say?" she asked, peering around the cover.

"Don't!" Draco said, loudly, as he pulled the book to his chest, "I don't want to take any chances. Who knows which passages might be harmful to you? It's not worth the risk when I can just read it."

Looking slightly exasperated, Hermione put her hands on her hips, "Well, are you going to read, then, or would you like us to play twenty questions?"

Draco scowled, and found the passage again. With his finger grazing over every word, he re-read the section aloud.

Hermione sat on the bench as he read, looking thoughtful. When he was finished, he looked up from the text, "Well?" he asked, "What do you think?"

Her brow was furrowed as she subconsciously wrapped her thumb and forefinger around a disheveled curl.

"Why," she began quietly, "wouldn't Snape have just told you about that information?"

"What?"

Hermione stood from the bench and crossed the length of the room, "You said that Snape told you this book was dangerous to muggle-borns. Well, how could he have known that if he's never read it before? And if he's read it, why didn't he just tell us - or at least you, the bit about the Horcruxes?"

Draco looked at her, slightly dumbfounded.

"Wait, didn't you hear what I just said? The means to - "

"Of course I did," Hermione interrupted, as she waved her hand dismissively, "I just don't understand why he never told you information if already knew it himself."

Draco pondered that for a moment, "Well, maybe it's because he never _had_ read it before. Maybe someone told him the book was dangerous to muggle-borns."

"Who? A Death Eater?" Hermione mocked, "Not likely. What Death Eater would care about protecting a muggle-born?" she added, as she sneaked another glance at the text.

Draco shut the book firmly before she could look any further, "Snape...Snape told me about this book before," he began, as his brow furrowed, "...you're right. He must have read it. He told me once...long ago, that it could possibly mean...redemption."

"Redemption?" Hermione questioned, her eyebrows high, "For what or who? Destroying Voldemort?"

"Possibly," he shrugged, "But you're right, why wouldn't he just tell me?"

"Well," Hermione began, as she sat back down on the wooden bench, "Maybe he _couldn't_ tell you."

Draco looked confused, "What do you mean?" he asked, as he sat beside her on the bench.

"Maybe...maybe Voldemort would know if he said something about Horcruxes," Hermione said, as she looked up at Draco.

He seemed to be pondering that thought for a moment before he spoke, "Yeah, but Hermione, no one is supposed to know that he has Horcruxes - let alone seven of them... plus Snape is a master Legilimens. The Dark Lord has penetrated his mind before, so why would this be any different? Snape's been a spy for years and the Dark Lord doesn't even have a clue."

"And," he continued, "Snape has spoken to both you and I about Horcruxes, so why would this book be any different?"

Hermione's brow was furrowed in concentration, "What if...what if Voldemort knew about this particular book?" Her eyes widened with her own, startling realization, "This could be the book where he first read about Horcruxes! He originally learned about them from Professor Slughorn - Harry saw that in Dumbledore's pensieve..."

Hermione was standing now, and pacing the length of the small room.

"But surely," she continued between paces, "he would have needed to read more about their creation, their properties...and ultimately...their destruction. Maybe Voldemort put some kind of spell on this book...where he would know if any of his Death Eaters had read or spoken about them - like a taboo for the text. It's extremely complicated magic, he would have had to of performed about a dozen..." she trailed off before she found Draco's eyes, "And surely, Snape would know that better than anyone."

Draco looked at Hermione, incredulously.

_Completely and utterly brilliant._

"Hermione! Of course!" he exclaimed, excitedly, "Snape's been hinting at that book for ages! He must have known that I would have taken special notice or care with it if he told me that it was dangerous to muggle-borns. It probably isn't even dangerous! I bet that it was the only way he knew I would finally pick up and read the damn thing!"

Draco was walking the length of the dungeon, hands flying in the air, as the realizations kept coming.

"And of course, you're right! The Dark Lord would do _anything _to protect his Horcruxes - Snape must have known that. Snape would have told me first thing in sixth year about that passage if he could have. But he _couldn't_! But that didn't mean that he wasn't able to hint to me!"

His chest was heaving deeply up and down, "Bloody hell!"

Hermione looked at him with bemusement, as he continued to pace the the room.

"It sure doesn't take much to excite you, does it?" she questioned, light heartedly.

Draco turned to face her and blushed slightly, "No, it's just that it all fits. Finally, _something_ makes sense."

"I wonder, though," he added, "Why the Dark Lord doesn't have this book anymore..."

Hermione shrugged, as she went to grab the discarded text on the bench, "Maybe Snape 'misplaced' it."

"Don't!" Draco yelled, as he threw himself between Hermione and the text.

"What?" You just said it yourself! It's not dangerous! That it was the way that Snape - "

"No," he cut off, "I'm not taking any chances."

"Bloody hell," Hermione repeated, slightly annoyed.

But Draco merely smiled, "I never remember you cursing back at school."

She laughed, ruefully, "That's because I never did. It used to drive me crazy... I think Ron was a bad influence."

_ Woah, did I just talk about Ron willingly?_

_Odd. _

_It's not really sadness anymore, though is it? More like...nostalgia. _

Draco was still smiling, "Well, I'm glad that he was. I not sure if I'd be able to stand you if you were still a prude."

"I was not a prude!" she retorted.

Draco laughed, "Whatever you say, Hermione. Now would you stop horsing around so that we can get to work?"

Hermione's face looked so shocked that Voldemort could have just strolled down the stairs and entered the room, and Draco wouldn't have been able to have known the difference.

"Okay," he began, "So basalisk fangs? The Goblet of Fire? How are we - or you, I guess, supposed to break into the Ministry of Magic or Hogwarts - "

"The Avada Kedavra curse works just fine, " Hermione interrupted, "It's worked on every Horcrux that we've encountered before."

"Did you cast it?" Draco asked.

Hermione looked slightly surprised by the question and shifted uncomfortably on the bench, "No. But I don't see how - "

"Trust me, Hermione," Draco interrupted, "Only certain people can cast the Avada Kedavra. Whether it's on an object, or a person, it doesn't make a difference. Sometimes there are blood sacrifices involved, and you have to have that same hatred within you...I don't think you could do it."

Hermione stared at him blankly before he whispered, quietly, "I couldn't do it."

Hermione's sorrel eyes locked into Draco's ashen ones for several moments. "But...why could Harry do it, then?" she asked, softly.

Draco regarded her momentarily, "Well, he's the '_chosen one_', isn't he?" he spat, acidly.

Hermione's eyes widened at the bitter tone in his voice.

"No," he said in a much softer tone after a moment, "Potter has a connection to the Dark Lord that no one can explain. Dumbledore probably didn't even know the extent of it. But the Dark Lord completely destroyed Potter's childhood - his parents, his mentors...his friends..." he trailed off.

"I suspect he would have it in him to do whatever was necessary to kill the Dark Lord."

Hermione nodded in agreement.

She didn't mention the rage that she had once felt in her heart over the death of Ron. Regardless of whatever place she was in now, she knew that it that moment of rage, that she would have been able to cast the killing curse in an instant - heaven help whomever stood in the way.

"Right," Hermione said, while glancing at the book, "Well, this is in then, isn't it? We have our means of destruction - but still, I have no clue as to where that last unknown Horcrux could be. I think...that's where we should focus our efforts. All this is for naught if we don't have the actual object to destroy."

Draco nodded, "How did you find the last ones?"

"Well, Dumbledore had already destroyed the ring," she began as she counted off on her fingers, "Harry had the diary from Ginny, and it just took some extensive research to track down the real Slytherin locket and Hufflepuff's cup. But that's the thing - we knew what we were looking for. We already knew about Slytherin's locket, and Dumbledore had a hunch about the cup, so we just followed those leads. Dumbledore mentioned an idea that Voldemort would collect something from all the Founders of Hogwarts, but - "

"Well, that just leaves Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, then," Draco interrupted.

Hermione nodded, "I looked for ages for something Voldemort would have taken from either house, but I always came up empty handed. And then Harry thought it might be too obvious an idea, so we started - "

"Too obvious?" Draco asked, loudly.

"Well yes, he said - "

"Hermione! Potter is _supposed _to have a connection with the Dark Lord for crying out loud! Does he know nothing at all of his character? The Dark Lord _lives_ for the dramatics. It would be his final triumph to have something from every house to throw in the Founders' faces - not only that he was Slytherin's heir, but that Slytherin was justified with all his 'pureblood superiority' rubbish! I would bet every galleon I have that the missing Horcrux is something of Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's.

Hermione smiled, widely, "Well, let's get to work, then."

_So completely different from Harry._

Draco returned the gesture, "Deal. And by the way," he added as he stood from the bench, "Don't even attempt to go looking for this book - you'll never find it."

He waved _The Darkest Secrets_ dramatically in the air.

"Is that a challenge?" Hermione pressed, as she too, stood.

"A warning," he said, sternly.

Hermione picked up the small bags of hairs from the bench and walked toward the newly bottled viles, "And you said that _I _was a prude?"

Behind her back, Draco sighed loudly, "Can't you ever resist the idiocy of running head first into danger?"

Hermione turned around with a seductive grin, "Where's the fun in that? I am a Gryffindor, after all."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Trust me, I know. You don't need to remind me."

"Slimy Slytherin git."

"Bossy Gryffindor know-it-all."

They both turned to each other and chuckled softly.

"Do you need help with those hairs?" Draco asked, as he came up behind her.

Hermione nodded, "Uncork the viles, and I'll make labels."

Draco had the viles ready while Hermione was still muttering softly to herself, "Let's see...the market man...check...the two younger women in the street..."

"Oh, so I get to be a nice young woman, now, do I?" Draco asked, as he folded his arms and leaned his back against the table.

"Fat chance. I've already told you who you are. Who knows what you would do with those women's bodies..."

"Hermione! I'm not _that_ sick! What kind of pervert do you think I am?" he interrupted, looking for all the world, genuinely shocked.

"You tell me. You were the one that insinuated it," Hermione replied as she finished with the last of the labels.

"Well, that's disgusting. I would never dream of - "

"Everyone said that during fourth year you spied on the Slytherin girls in the prefects bathroom," Hermione said with a smirk, as she pocketed her wand, "What do you have to say to that?"

Draco's eyes shot up a mile on his forehead.

"Did you even _see_ the girls in Slytherin while you were at Hogwarts! They were trolls! Why would I want to see them without any clothing when I could barely stomach them even in all those ghastly robes?"

Hermione was laughing loudly, "How am I supposed to know? We all just assumed that you liked larger women."

Draco looked much like the time that Hermione had slapped him in the face - staring dumbfounded at nothing in particular.

"Well, I'm heading up. It's freezing down here," Hermione informed him as she passed by the bookshelf, "Let's see... oh!" she exclaimed, as she pulled a thick tome from the shelf, "I'm glad the two of you had enough sense to bring _Hogwarts: A History_ with you. There could be some information about the Founders in here that I've overlooked."

Draco, still reeling from Hermione's last comment, shook his head, "Wait, don't you have that thing memorized by now? You were always carting it all over the school. I'm surprised that you don't look like Quasimodo with all of those books that were slung over your shoulder."

"Funny," Hermione spat as she climbed the spiral stairs, "You're a real comedian."

Draco smirked to himself as he heard Hermione climbing the stairs. He walked toward the bookshelf and grabbed _The History of Magic_, along with _Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Geneology._

He thumbed quickly through the two texts, scanning over a few chapter headings, and then too climbed the steps to the entryway.

Before he came around the final bend in the stairwell, he immediately felt the shift in temperature, and the warmth that was emanating from the fire. Hermione was sitting in her usual spot on the sofa near the fireplace, with her feet tucked up under her robes, and her head bent in concentration over _Hogwarts: A History._ She did not look up when he walked over and sat in the reclining chair.

"I don't think that it's anything from Gryffindor," she said, her head still in the book.

"Why not?" Draco asked.

"Because the only known relic of Godric Gryffindor is his sword, and if that's one of the possible theories of objects that can destroy the actual Horcruxes, then that wouldn't make any sense. You can't have an object be a Horcrux, and have it be the thing to destroy it at the same time. It's impossible."

Draco set _The History of Magic_ on the floor beside him, "And there's nothing else of Gryffindor's the Dark Lord might have used? You're sure?"

Hermione looked up from the thick text, "Well, I _was_ in Gryffindor house. And yes, I am sure. If it's not the sword, then there is nothing else that has ever been mentioned or written about that I can think of that Voldemort would even know to use for a Horcrux. And you just said it yourself. Voldemort lives for dramatics. I don't think it would be some obscure little thing...like Gryffindor's handkerchief or something."

"Well, then we've just narrowed it down. Ravenclaw it is. What are some known artifacts?"

They discussed well into the night various artifacts from Rowena Ravenclaw that could possibly be linked to Horcruxes. A diadem, scepter, dagger, and compass were all likely candidates.

Hermione yawned widely, as she set the book she was reading on her lap, "Here, read this."

Draco looked up from his own text, and then got up from his chair to sit by Hermione on the sofa. She wordlessly handed him the text and pointed to a passage.

_Rowena Ravenclaw, known for her extreme intelligence and wit, was an essential asset to the four founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. From an early age, Rowena demonstrated obvious signs of aptitude and intellect. Rumor has it, that on one brisk autumn morning, when she was merely five years of age, Rowena..._

Draco continued reading until he felt his eyelids growing heavy. And suddenly, wonderfully, he felt a slight weight leaning into his side. Draco slowly turned to the left to see Hermione's head resting slightly against his shoulder. Her breathing was deep and spaced, and she looked utterly peaceful. Draco sat for a moment, watching her sleep. He observed her closely - something he could never do when she was awake. She somehow always seemed to know when his eyes were on her.

Her dark lashes were strangely fascinating. So soft in appearance, but Draco was sure if he ever grazed them, they would tickle. And then there were her lips. Her perfect, rich, lips.

She sighed deeply in that moment, and subconsciously nestled closer into Draco's side. He set the book down on his lap and closed his eyes with contentment.

Maybe the late night researching wasn't going to be that bad, after all.

_Please Review!_


	11. Chapter 11

The research on artifacts belonging to Rowena Ravenclaw wasn't going well.

In the two weeks that Draco and Hermione had spent searching for potential heirlooms belonging to said founder, every corner they had turned became a dead end.

"Unbelievable," Hermione had said in frustration, as she tossed a text carelessly beside her on the sofa, "Everything I've read about Rowena's belongings is all speculation - nothing concrete."

She sighed and looked up at Draco, who was sitting in his usual spot on the reclining chair, "There are about one hundred different leads that we could follow - but who has the time and manpower for that?"

She stood and began pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, "And what's more...time is a luxury we don't have. We've already wasted precious researching hours by brewing the Polyjuice Potion - I know it was necessary, but I still feel as though we haven't accomplished anything. And if what Snape told us is true..." she trailed off.

Snape had contacted them a week ago by means of his Patronus. Evidently, his situation was too dire to warrant using the Dark Mark and meeting Draco in person. His Patronus remained for a total of three seconds before disappearing.

"_He is on the move. You must hurry._"

The message, of course, sent Hermione into a fit, and she began researching with new vigor and desperation.

And then, the newspaper articles started appearing.

Hermione took regular visits to Hanoock - usually during the late evening hours, so that she wasn't as easily recognized, and snatched copies of the local paper. The last few days alone had reports of mass murders of unidentified groups of individuals that left the local muggle authorities scratching their heads.

"It's him," Hermione said, returning from Hanoock one blustery night, and throwing the paper into Draco's lap, "It's Voldemort. Something must have happened if he's feeling confident enough to be making his actions public like this. Before we know it...he'll be after the Ministry."

Draco frowned as he scanned over the article, "What more can we do?" he asked, "We can't go out and meet him head on until we find that Horcrux. And as for the Death Eaters...we can only hope that the Order has enough resources to handle them."

Hermione sat on the sofa, leaned over and put her head in her hands.

After a moment, she heard the creaking of the recliner as Draco stood and then sat down beside her.

"Hey," he said, taking both of her hands from her head and setting them gently in his lap, "It'll be okay. We can do this."

His thumb gently grazed the back of her hand for a slight moment.

Hermione's startled eyes searched Draco's face, and then just as quickly as it had happened, Draco returned to the recliner without another word.

Hermione's mind reeled over the imposed intimacy of the gesture, but then she remembered herself.

"You're right," she said, with a new sense of discipline, "We can do this."

Draco began reading and scanning through as many of the dark texts from his library as he could - praying that there might be something - anything mentioned about a special heirloom with potential power and dominion. At the same time, Hermione was racking her brain and going over the minute details in _Hogwarts: A History_, while copiously scanning the index and bibliography.

It was the night after Draco had fleetingly, albeit intently touched Hermione's hand.

_Why am I referring back to that? _

_Are all the important events in my life going to now be traced back to that single moment?_

_'Two years, and twenty-six days after Draco touched my hand with such tenderness...gentleness..._

_Okay, enough, Granger. _

_You're starting to lose it._

Hermione was sitting on the sofa, scanning over the bibliography of _Hogwarts: A History_, while Draco was in the kitchen preparing something for them to eat.

From the smell of it, whatever it was; it was burning.

"Let's see..._Year with the Yeti_, by Gilderoy Lockhart - like that will have anything remotely factual... _Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century_, _An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe,_ _An Anthology of Eighteenth-Century Charms_..."

Hermione was pondering over the implications of the last text when, without warning, a great stag Patronus burst into the entryway and shook it's massive head.

Draco, upon seeing it's brilliant light, came running from the kitchen still holding something closely resembling a spatula.

"_Hermione!_" The Patronus pleaded with Harry's distraught voice, "_Please, wherever you are...we need you...there's been an attack - Lupin...it's bad. I'm not sure if he's going to make it. Please...we're at the new headquarters location, on the shores below the White Cliffs of Dover...__I need to know that you're safe. Things are getting really bad..._"

The Patronus looked knowingly at Hermione, and then disappeared into a vaporous mist.

Hermione stared at the space where Harry's Patronus had just been - her eyes wide with shock.

Then, shaking her head, she reached into her robe, pulled out her wand, and shouted, "_Accio Hermione's cloak!_"

Draco - still reeling over the sight of Harry's Patronus, dropped the spatula and ran over to Hermione.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she asked, as she grabbed her cloak, and roughly threw it over her shoulders.

Draco looked at her in near desperation, "You can't go out there, Hermione. It's too dangerous."

Hermione shoved Draco's hand off her shoulder and strode purposefully to the great entryway doors.

"Don't you dare attempt using that on me, Draco. I can take care of myself - and you know it," she said with a note of finality in her voice.

But Draco quickly caught up to her and spun her around so fast that Hermione's head was momentarily spinning.

"Are you kidding me? The newspapers are reporting mass murders all over Britain - which you know damn well to be muggles and muggle-borns, and you're telling me that it's not dangerous for you to go out there? Not to mention that you will have to answer to Potter and the rest of the Order where you've been this entire time! Do you not recall Snape telling you that it would be dangerous for Potter to know anything that we've been working on? It's a bad idea all around, Hermione. I refuse to let you go."

Hermione's eyes narrowed as soon as he spoke that last sentence, "Oh, you _refuse_, do you? Well, let me tell you something, _Draco_," she spat, as she emphasized his name, "You do not control me, or own me, and you do not have the power to refuse to let me do anything. Harry and the Order are in trouble, and they need me. I'm going."

Draco gripped her arm all the more tighter and looked into her eyes, "Please, Hermione," he begged, "Don't do this. We don't have much time...Snape said that we must hurry."

Hermione's eyes softened momentarily, "Draco, do you remember what I told you the very first day that I saw you in the manor? I gave you my word. Remember? I need you to trust in that. And I swear to you, I will be back," she paused as she sought his frightened eyes, "I will help you finish this - I swear to God."

Draco's eyes appeared wild and unfocused and he pondered what she had just said, "Snape told me not to let you out of my sight. Something could go wrong...something could happen...and then if I came out to...help you...everything would be ruined. Everything that we've worked for. You can't go, Hermione. Please, you must see the greater cause in this."

Anger returned to Hermione, and she pulled forcefully away from him - but to no avail, "Draco. Let go of me! Don't you put this on me like that! Lupin could be dead! I have to go! Don't you see? He's the leader of the Order! I can help! And maybe they have information that will help us with what we're looking for! Now, let go!"

Each word she annunciated was followed by a hard jerk as Hermione tried to free herself from Draco's grip.

"Hermione, no! They are specifically targeting muggle-borns! Stop being so thick! You would be the Dark Lord's greatest prize - the best friend of Harry Potter! Do you even know what he would do to you?" Draco yelled, as he struggled to keep her within his grasp. "He would torture you beyond anything you can possibly imagine in order to lure Potter to him, and then he would kill you both!"

"Stop it!" Hermione shouted, "I'm not a child, and they need me! Don't make me do this..." she warned as she locked eyes with him.

When he still refused to loosen his hold; Hermione, with incredible speed and precision, pulled her wand out with her free hand and pointed it directly at Draco.

"_Stupefy!"_ she screamed.

_"Protego!" _Draco called, at the exact same moment.

The red light that shot from Hermione's wand hit a brilliant blue shield that surrounded Draco.

And that was all she needed.

Now free from Draco's grasp, she ran at full speed through the massive doors and into the menacing night storm.

But Draco was hot on her heels, and the minute she was out into the blowing wind and rain, he pointed his wand at her running form.

"_Impedimentia_!" he screamed.

Hermione turned around, and wordlessly deflected the curse as lightening flashed and lit up the castle grounds.

_"Stupefy!" _

_"Petrificus Totalus!" _

_"Impedimentia!"_

Draco shouted in succession.

Hermione was forced to stop running toward the apparation border and dodge to her right to avoid getting hit.

"Draco! Stop this! I'm wasting time!" She screamed over the howling wind, "You do not want to duel with me - I swear to you!"

But Draco was looking at her with purpose. Whether due to the fact that he had stalled her from running head first into what he felt was inevitable danger, or the fact that she was now so furious that she would duel him in a heart beat, he wasn't quite sure.

And in that moment Hermione saw in Draco's eyes, as the lightning flashed and lit up the depths within, that he was not going to let her leave.

She stared silently at him as the storm blew her hair and robes into a raging fury.

"Fine," she muttered to herself, deeply, "So be it."

Draco's wand hand twitched as he waited for her move.

_"__Expelliarmus!" _Hermione yelled.

The force of the spell was so great that Draco had to dive out of the way and into the muddy ground.

He looked up from his prone position - genuinely startled, and then a small grin spread across his face.

She wasn't holding back.

He was on his feet again, within seconds, "Is that the best you've got?" he yelled, provokingly.

Enraged, Hermione began maneuvering her wand in a furious succession of movements.

Brilliant colors of red, blue, yellow, and purple lit up the night sky and reflected wildly in her eyes and she deftly maneuvered her wand.

Never once did she utter a single word.

Draco was blocking, dodging, and diving as best he could as the curses kept coming in his direction.

Every time he went to go on the offensive, another curse would fly directly at him, and he was forced to defend himself or dart swiftly out of the way.

Finally, dropping to the ground and rolling slightly to avoid a blue jet of light that narrowly missed him, Draco pointed his wand at Hermione and screamed, "_Expelliarmus!"_

Hermione, who was in the middle of a complex wand motion, was not ready for the spell, and her wand was forced from her hand.

Despite the powerful storm that was raging around them, Hermione heard her wand land with an audible "clang" next to Draco's prone position on the ground.

Lightening flashed, as Draco grinned in triumph and he grabbed her wand and stood from the muddy ground.

He raised Hermione's own wand at her, and shouted, "_Stupefy!_"

But instead of dodging or running from the spell, Hermione gave Draco a knowing grin just as the force of the spell was about to hit her.

She raised both her hands and yelled loudly, "_Protego!_"

A blinding light emanated from her hands, and a blue shield completely engulfed her - leaving her completely unharmed.

Breathing heavily, Draco appeared mildly startled.

But then, with a wand in each hand like a warrior engaging in battle, he began firing off every spell that he could think of.

And once more, a plethora of colors lit the entire expanse of the grounds, as Hermione blocked, dodged, and fired off spells of her own without the use of a wand.

An overwhelming crack of a thundercloud above made Hermione drop to her knees and cover her ears - so great was the percussion.

Draco, taking advantage of her vulnerable position, stood, and fired a spell directly at her.

Looking up, Hermione saw the jet of light heading straight for her, and everything seemed to momentarily slow down.

With a contemptuous glare at Draco, she closed her eyes.

Her heart pounded loudly in her chest.

_Thud._

_Thud._

_Thud._

Her erratic breathing filled her ears with such an overwhelming volume that she could no longer hear the ranging inferno around her.

Still crouched on the muddy ground, Hermione slowly and deliberately opened her eyes just as the blazing light was ready to hit her squarely in the face.

A brilliant light instantly emanated from within her, and she launched herself into the sky in her griffin form, just as the spell hit the ground beneath her.

Despite the torrential storm around her, she heard Draco curse loudly as he, too, transformed into his animagus form, and kicked off the ground hard after her.

While the dragon had the advantage of speed and power, the griffin had agility, sharpness, and the ability to turn on a dime.

Hermione flew around the spires of the castle, deftly weaving in and around them, as Draco let out a roar of frustration behind her. As Hermione rounded the highest spire, she was met by a blazing stream of fire from Draco's mouth. Immediately, she shot straight up into a vertical position, like a rocket launching into the night sky, as the light diminished beneath her.

And then, with her keen griffin senses working in overdrive, her eyes searched the muddy ground beneath her as she desperately searched for her wand. A slight gust of wind blew a small stick of wood around recklessly several meters from where she hovered, and immediately, she dove into a tailspin to retrieve it.

_There it is._

She pushed herself further and faster towards the earth as she heard Draco's powerful wings just slightly behind her.

Stretching her claws forward, she continued to dive toward the earth, and then, pulling up at the last possible second, she reached down and snatched her wand.

The larger and less agile form of Draco had pulled up moments before, and now Hermione was spinning through the air in a corkscrew formation as she launched herself with all the power in her body towards the apparation point.

Keeping her head low and streamlined with her body, she continued to pull herself forward as Draco became caught in a strong gust behind her. She heard him slow as his wings pounded the air to regain control, and her eyes narrowed with purpose as she was mere meters to the large, black boulder.

Finally throwing herself over the rock, she transformed to her human form, clutched her wand tightly, and apparated.

The last sound Hermione heard before she felt the familiar compression, was the anguished roar of a dragon.

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Hermione was running.

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her - which was, unfortunately, not as fast as she normally ran.

Greatly fatigued from her recent exertions with wandless magic and her battle in the night sky with Draco, Hermione struggled and stumbled over the precarious rocks and driftwood as massive waves crashed against a nearby shore.

The full moon gave off enough light for Hermione to see that straight above her was a massive cliff that appeared to be at least twice the size of the one at Muron Castle. Further up the shoreline, she could make out the forms of wind beaten trees that clung fiercely with their straining roots to the slippery rocks.

Hermione pressed forward - towards the new headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

Tripping over a blunt rock hidden surreptitiously in a kelp bed, Hermione launched forward, scraping her knee on a particularly jagged rock. Briefly stopping to wipe the blood from her leg, Hermione cursed quietly, and was off running again.

Her thoughts kept returning to Harry's urgent Patronus.

_Lupin...It's bad..._

_I'm not sure if he's going to make it..._

Tears stung Hermione's eyes and she continued to push herself along the shore.

How could the Order survive without Lupin?

How could _she_ survive?

Remus Lupin had been her mentor, teacher, and friend for as long as she could remember.

Ever since Dumbledore's death, he had been her refuge - the one person besides Harry that she had to hold onto.

Lupin was the only thing in her retched world that had made any sense after Ron had been murdered.

And though Hermione had never admitted it, because she was slightly ashamed, Lupin had become more like a father to her than anyone had ever been - even her own blood father.

She remembered how Lupin had smiled when she first told him of his influence and the effect he had been upon her life.

"Hermione," he had said looking down at her, "If I have seen further than others, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants."

Hermione smiled, knowing the reference was to Albus Dumbledore, "Issac Newton? I'm impressed. He was a muggle, you know," she had said, with a grin.

"That's what you think," he replied with the same smile.

A tree branch scraping her face brought Hermione back to reality as she raced along the treacherous shoreline.

The beach was so cold that the trees sagged with the added weight of the frost.

She could see her breath.

And then, miraculously - there it was.

An old run-down shack.

Bent on it's hinges, the post and lintel doorway looked as though it might topple over at any given moment. The structure appeared not unlike the Shrieking Shack back at Hogwarts.

Light was coming through every window, making a clear path to the front door.

With a renewed sense of energy, she sprinted up the path to the doorway and collided with a figure that had come through the unbalanced entryway at the exact same moment.

A mass of untidy raven hair was all she needed to see to know that it was Harry Potter that she was clinging to. His arms immediately embraced her and they clutched each other tightly - as though they might never see one another again.

"Hermione!" Harry said into her thick, muddied hair, "I've been so worried about you!"

"I know!" Hermione replied, as her arms tightened around Harry's neck, "I'm sorry. I couldn't say anything...I've missed you...so much," she trailed off.

After several moments of embracing, they pulled apart and looked each other over for the first time in months.

It was the longest that they had ever been apart.

"Hermione," Harry said, as he took in her bleeding cheek and her muddy, torn robes, "What happened to you? Are you hurt?"

Hermione looked down at her robes and shook her head, dismissively, "I'm fine. How's Lupin? What happened?"

Harry seemed reluctant to let the subject of Hermione's wellbeing slide, but he quickly ushered her through the door, "Come in, it's freezing out here."

Hermione nodded, "I know. I could see my breath. What's going on? I've never seen trees freeze this close to the ocean before."

"Dementors," Harry said, angrily.

Hermione's eyes widened as she put a hand over her mouth, "Dementors?" she repeated, "But how could they know you were here? Were you followed when you evacuated Blackmoor Forest? Is it Voldemort?"

Harry shook his head, "Not now, Hermione," he said, as he lead her through the narrow hallway that opened into a cozy family room.

Lupin was laying pale and prone on a couch, with Tonks leaning over him holding a washcloth to his forehead. Hagrid and Moody were next to a small fireplace, working over an ancient looking cauldron, and Mr. Weasley was in the corner, looking slightly worse for wear, but leaning intently over a book.

Despite the grave situation, Hermione's heart nearly burst with happiness at seeing her close friends and mentors. Tears filled her eyes, as she saw Tonks look up from Lupin, gently set the washcloth down, and then sprint to embrace Hermione.

"Hermione!" Tonks cried, as she hugged her friend, "We've been so worried!"

At Tonks' exclamation, everyone in the room turned to acknowledge Hermione's presence.

Mr.Weasley quickly left the small desk he had been occupying, Hagrid thundered across the small room, and even Moody looked up from whatever it was he was brewing.

They all hugged and greeted Hermione with tear filled eyes - with the exception of Moody, who strode across the room, grabbed Hermione's arm, and jabbed his wand to her throat.

"We don't know for sure if it's her!" he yelled, as everyone immediately screamed for him to let her go.

"Alastor!" Mr. Weasley shouted, "Harry just summoned her, of course it's Hermione!"

"Where was the last place that you went on a mission with me?" Moody demanded, as he spun Hermione around so they were face to face.

"Malfoy Manor," Hermione replied, angrily, " And it was the seventh time we had searched the damn place!"

Moody roughly released her arm and returned to his cauldron on the fireplace without another word.

Hermione glared after him.

"Yeh okay, Hermione? Yeh look eh little roughed up," Hagrid asked, as he placed a massive hand on her shoulder.

"I'm fine, Hagrid, really. I just tripped and feel into some mud," she replied, and then turned to Tonks and Harry, who were kneeling over Lupin's unmoving body, "What happened to him?"

Harry looked up her, took off his glasses and wiped them on his equally dirty robe, "He's been hit with a curse that I've never seen before. No one knows what it is. He's barely...hanging in," he said, casting a cautious glance a Tonks, who was stroking Lupin's forehead and sniffing loudly.

Hermione walked around the couch and closely observed Lupin for the first time since arriving at the shack.

She couldn't believe what she saw.

Staining Lupin's pale skin, were crimson streaks that were oozing from every orifice on his face. His ears, eyes, nose and mouth all had blood pouring out at a rapid pace. Tonks couldn't wipe the surface clean fast enough before the traitorous crimson liquid appeared again.

It was a grizzly sight.

"Oh Remus," Hermione said, softly as she feel to her knees beside Tonks, "What happened to you?"

"It was Malfoy," Harry said, furiously behind her.

Hermione's head spun around so quickly that she heard a slight "_pop!_" in her neck.

"What?" she demanded, locking eyes with Harry.

"Lucius," Harry reiterated, "He was the one that hit him with the curse."

Hermione's heartbeat slowly returned to it's normal baseline.

The mention of the Malfoy name around the Order frightened her - no one could know about Draco's true loyalties.

As she returned to the gruesome sight of Lupin's face, a startling realization hit her.

"Wait," she said quietly, more to herself, than to anyone in particular, "I've seen these symptoms..." she whispered, as she regarded Lupin more closely.

"What?" Harry and Tonks both asked, as they look at her frantically, "You know what this is?" Tonks asked - her voice pleading.

"Yes, I've read about these symptoms before..." Hermione trailed off.

Her thoughts flew to the night she had read about the Mudiaticus Curse.

_What was that book?_

_Think, Hermione, think!  
_

_Or course! _

_Beyond Unforgivables: Uncommon Curses that can be the Wizard's Darkest Ally._

And then, it all came flooding back at a rapid pace.

Hermione had read about Lupin's symptoms in the very chapter before she had been injured by the Mudiaticus Curse. It was in _Beyond Unforgiveables_; one of the texts she had read from Draco's library.

_...will cause blood flow to pour from every orifice on the face, eventually leaving the victim to bleed to death. _

_Yes, but what else?_

Hermione massaged her temples and she struggled to remember the passage.

_...excruciatingly painful..._

_...will take hours for the victim to finally succumb..._

_...wave your wand in a figure eight clockwise pattern..._

And then, Hermione's eyes shot open.

_To counteract the effects of this curse, the victim must have a sufficient offering of blood from an outside participant, which is to be administered into the mouth. The moment the blood touches the mouth, the outside participant must recite the incantation, 'Sangre Reverso!'_

"I've got it," Hermione exclaimed, as she pulled up her cloak and robes, revealing her cut knee.

Everyone's attention was focused on Hermione - the newfound hope for their fallen leader, nearly tangible.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, as he knelt beside Hermione.

"Saving his life," she replied, as she conjured a vile and started siphoning blood from her knee. Slowly, she filled the vile and then hobbled over to Lupin. Gently lifting his head, she put the vile to his lips.

"What the bloody hell are you doing!?" Moody demanded, as she limped forward on his bad leg.

Hermione turned around with fire in her eyes, "Trust me, Mad-Eye, this will work."

Moody started shouting again, but before he could do anything, Hermione had emptied the vile into Lupin's mouth, and shouted while drawing her wand, "_Sangre Reverso!_"

Silence.

Everyone leaned forward.

_I can only pray that it was 'a sufficient offering.'_

After several moments of silence, there was still nothing.

Cursing loudly, Hermione threw up her robes again, and was once more preparing to dig all the blood she could out of her knee, when suddenly, there was a loud shriek from Tonks as she leaned over Lupin's body.

"It's working!" she screamed, as tears of joy flowed down her face, "He's no longer bleeding!"

And sure enough, when Hermione leaned around Harry to look at Lupin's face, the crimson stain was no longer present. His sickeningly pale face had regained some color, and his breathing was less shallowed.

"It worked, Hermione! It worked!" Tonks cried, as she threw her arms around her friend, "Thank you! I don't know how I can ever..."

But Hermione cut Tonks off, "Hey, there's no need to thank me. I'm just glad that I could help," she said as she pulled Tonks away and steadied her.

"That was brilliant, Hermione! Well done!" Hagrid exclaimed, happily, as he roughly patted Hermione on the back - nearly causing her to fall forward on her face.

Hermione smiled and excepted all of the 'thanks' and the 'well done's' from the Order, but her eyes sought for the emerald green ones that she knew so well.

Finally, she found them.

"Hermione," Harry began, quietly, "Could, I...er...talk to you for a moment in private?" he asked, as he looked around at the others.

"Sure," Hermione replied, reluctantly, "I'll be right back, Hagrid," she called over her shoulder. But everyone was too overjoyed about Lupin's sudden change in condition to notice her leaving the room. She followed Harry up some precarious wooden stairs that creaked and groaned under her weight.

On the second level, they entered a small bedroom that housed a twin bed, a desk, and several Quidditch supplies. On the desk was a photo of Harry and Ginny at her graduation.

"Home sweet home?" Hermione asked, as she sat herself on the edge of the twin bed.

Harry tried to fake a smile, but failed miserably.

He regarded her silently for several moments before speaking.

"Hermione," he began, in a low tone, trying to keep his composure, "It's been months. Where have you been? I was worried sick!"

His voice level was starting to rise.

Evidently, all hopes of composure were fluttering out the window.

"You leave me this note...a vague note that says that you're going to Malfoy Manor, and then I get some strange message from your Patronus, and that's it!? We went back to the manor and Death Eaters had been there! The whole front of the home had imploded! Can you even _imagine_ how worried I was?"

Harry was absolutely fuming as he paced the rickety floor in front of her.

Hermione watched in silence, as he continued with his tirade, until he halted and knelt in front of her and grabbed her cold hands.

"Hermione," he said, straining to hide his emotion, "I thought I had lost you. The Death Eaters have been on the move ever since you left...I wasn't sure if you had be captured...I didn't even know if you were alive..."

_Oh, Harry._

_I'm so sorry._

"Harry," Hermione began, her voice too, strained with emotion, "I am _so_ sorry. But please," she implored, as she grabbed his hands tightly, "I need you to believe me when I say that it was something that had to be done."

Harry looked up at her, his glasses still dirty, as tears slowly streamed down his face, "Where have you been?"

And Hermione thought of Draco.

Draco had wandered into her heart quietly, stealthily, so that much of the time she wasn't truly sure that he was actually there.

But he was.

She thought of the indescribable look that sometimes crossed his eyes as he looked her over when he didn't think she was looking.

She thought of the genuine panic he had been in when her arm was literally splitting in two.

And as she thought of him, something in her heart began to swell.

Hermione's eyes were locked on Harry's and then she forcefully closed them, squeezing them tight, as a few tears escaped, "I can't tell you," she whispered.

Harry's eyes searched Hermione's face, but she still refused to open her eyes, "You can't tell me?" he demanded, "Why the hell not?"

"Harry, please!" Hermione cried, as she opened her eyes, and fell down to her knees so that they were level with one another, "Please," she pleaded again, "If there was anytime _ever_ in the history of our friendship that I needed you to trust me, to believe me, to have faith in me - it's _this_ moment."

"Hermione," Harry whispered, "we've told each other everything our entire lives. We have no secrets. You were the first one to know about Ginny...we tell each other everything, right? Horcruxes - everything...we have no secrets."

Hermione looked at Harry for a long moment.

She never imagined it would be so difficult for her to keep this from him.

It would be _so _easy just to tell him.

And he was right, they had told each other everything for as long as she could remember.

They had no secrets.

But then Hermione remembered Snape, and what he had said regarding Voldemort.

_"The Dark Lord can access Potter's brain at any given moment. If he were to find out that you were in leave with myself and Draco, it would destroy the entire operation. Not to mention...kill us all."_

And that was what it boiled down to.

Harry would just have to trust her.

"Harry," Hermione said, as she grabbed the sides of his face and looked deeply into his eyes, "I know we have no secrets. But this...this is something else. Not only is this for your protection, but for mine and everyone else that has been involved in this rebellion. The Order - everyone. I need you to put your faith in me. This is something...that we can't do together." Harry's eyes widened at Hermione's last words, "I'm so sorry," she finished.

Harry looked at her quietly for several moments, before he mimicked her action and grabbed the sides of her head so that they were clinging to each other - face to face.

"Hermione, I trust you...I trust you with my life. And I'll believe you when you tell me that this is something that you have to do on your own. But you look me in the eye right now..." he cracked as he starting crying freely, "...and you promise me, that no matter what, you will come back. No matter what, you'll be okay. We've already lost Ron to this madness...I...I can't lose you too. You're my sister - my best friend. You have to promise me, Hermione."

Hermione's cheek stung from where she had cut it on the tree. Her salty tears were pouring freely into the open wound.

"Harry," she began, shakily, "I swear that I will do everything in my power. I promise you...this will end. Voldemort will not win. And you will have a normal, happy life like you've always deserved. I swear it."

Harry nodded, as he gently rested his forehead against Hermione's.

They sat that way, for several moments.

Finally, Harry broke the contact, wiped his nose, and looked at Hermione.

"The last Horcrux belongs to Ravenclaw," he said, as his voice gained some composure.

Hermione's eyes immediately lit up, "I know," she said, "Did you tell Lupin?"

Harry nodded, "Right after you sent your Patronus. You were right, he's been an invaluable asset. We've been researching together, between running from the Death Eaters and finding new locations to stay at."

"You mean, you haven't been here this whole time?"

"No, it's been too dangerous. It seems like every time we take up new headquarters, the Death Eaters always seem to find us," Harry said angrily, "We've been moving locations every week or so to try to throw them off the trail."

"The Dementors," Hermione said, with fury, "That's how Voldemort is tracking you. They're sensing your specific memories...your good thoughts."

Harry nodded, again, "We think so too. The Death Eaters have been in all but open rebellion the last few months. Hundreds of muggles and muggle-borns have been murdered...that's why I was so worried about you..."

"I know," Hermione said, quietly, "I read about the murders. Something must have happened to make Voldemort feel he can make open attacks like this. You need to be careful, Harry. It's you that he's after."

Harry said nothing for a moment.

"The curse that hit Lupin was meant for me."

"What?" Hermione asked, her eyes widening.

"The curse. The Death Eaters were attacking a huge group of muggles in Surrey, and as soon as Order spies caught wind of it, we left as fast as we could. It was a small impoverished neighborhood - off the beaten path...Lucius was there leading the attack - his mask was off...and the moment he saw me...it was like he lost control of all his inhibitions...he saw nothing _but_ me. He fired the curse, but I had just been hit with a stunner, and...and Lupin jumped in front of me and took the blow."

"Oh, Harry..."

Harry looked up at Hermione, "He would have died if it wasn't for you."

Hermione blushed slightly and looked down and her dirty hands.

"Where did you read about that curse?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head, "That's not important. What's important is that he's going to be okay now."

Harry eyed her skeptically, but didn't question any further.

"How did you know the Horcrux was something of Ravenclaw's?" Hermione asked, changing the subject.

"Lupin. He's certain that it was her compass."

"I've read something about a compass, but are we talking about a navigational compass, or one used for geometry?"

"Navigational," Harry said, as he stood from the dusty floor, pulled Hermione up and sat on the edge of the bed, "Lupin found some letters in Sirius' old stuff from that last time we went to Grimmwald Place - the night you disappeared."

Hermione looked guiltily to the floor.

"The letters were written to Sirius from his brother - R.A.B.," Harry continued, "Apparently, right before Regulus's death, they had some sort of reconciliation. In the letters, he mentions the locket that we already destroyed, along with a compass of apparent limitless power."

"Limitless power?" Hermione asked, as she raised her eyebrows, "Don't you think that we would have heard of such an artifact? And why wouldn't Sirius have just told us about the compass?"

"That's the thing," Harry said, and he subconsciously fingered his wand, "...the letters were never opened. I don't think that Sirius ever read them."

Hermione's brow furrowed in concentration, "Well, then there was probably no reconciliation at all. Sirius must have received the letters, but refused to open them."

Harry appeared to be pondering that for a moment, "Yeah, that could be. But regardless, it's something to go on, isn't it?

Hermione nodded, "Definitely. But what kind of limitless power are we talking about?"

"The letters spoke of now the compass navigated. Supposedly, when Rowena held the compass, it would point her to that which she desired most."

Hermione shuddered as her eyes widened, "But if it shows the user what they most desire, why wouldn't Voldemort just take it and use it to find you?"

"That's what Lupin was originally worried about," Harry replied as he twirled his wand, "But the letters went on to say that the owner must possess a pure heart and a virtuous spirit. Legend has it that the compass was a gift from Merlin, himself."

"Well, it looks like that rules Voldemort out," Hermione said, with relief.

Harry nodded, "Lupin thinks that Voldemort originally chose the compass to be one of his Horcruxes so that his soul would pollute it - and the piece residing inside it would enable the compass to work for him. Obviously it hasn't though - or I would have been dead a long time ago."

Hermione massaged her temples as she glanced over at the picture of Harry and Ginny.

"Does Lupin have any idea where the compass might be?"

"He has a theory..." Harry began, "But it's the only thing that we really have to go on."

"I'm listening," Hermione urged.

"Well, apparently not long before Voldemort killed my parents and lost all his power, he went across the English Channel in search of an old vessel that had been historically preserved since before the French Revolution. Louis XIV, himself was said to have sailed on it."

"The Sun King?" Hermione asked, with a hint of speculation.

"The very one," Harry confirmed as he continued, "Having just come from Britain, one of his French crews were sailing home across the Channel, and there was a horrible storm - sinking the ship and killing everyone on board."

"During the early twentieth-century, British navel intelligence found the ship using sonar and brought it to the surface and the bones of the French sailors were still entombed within the ship's hull..."

"Harry," Hermione cut in, "Wait...I've heard this story before," she said as she stood from the bed, and walked towards a modest sized window, "Supposedly, the ship was haunted from the sailors that were killed in the storm. The French authorities sunk the ship not long after they resurrected it due to all the so called 'strange happenings' aboard it."

"You don't believe it?" Harry asked.

"Of course not. It's a load of rubbish. I heard all about it when I visited France with my parents one summer during school. Apparently a teenager was murdered near the bow right after it had resurfaced...but it was most likely due some drug deal gone bad - not some angered spirits."

Harry chuckled, softly, "Always the skeptic, Hermione."

She shrugged, "So if the ship was sunk, how did Voldemort get access to it?"

"Lupin thinks he used accio on it. Obviously it would be extremely difficult - to summon something of that size and weight, but Lupin thinks with Voldemort's twisted and incarnate abilities, he somehow managed - and that's where he originally found the compass."

"Hmmm..." Hermione muttered, "Well, if he left the compass on the ship, it would be the perfect hiding place for a piece of his soul. Who would think to raise a '_haunted_' ship from the bottom of the ocean?"

"Exactly," Harry said, as he joined her by the window, "But there is one slight problem..."

Hermione raised her brow, "And what's that?"

"With the Dementors on full alert and Death Eaters around every corner...there's no way that I could go after the Horcrux without being noticed - we used the last of our storage of Polyjuice Potion about two weeks ago. And since Lupin and I are the only ones that know about it..."

"I'll go," Hermione cut in, "I'll see if the compass is there."

Harry smiled fondly as his best friend, "It'll be dangerous," he warned.

Hermione smiled, "Exactly. It's just my style."

"Hermione," Harry began, "If there was a way that you didn't have to do this..."

"Harry," she interrupted, "...listen to me."

She grabbed his chin, and tugged down on it so that their eyes were locked, "You know that I'm capable of doing this. Now have a little faith, would you?" she teased.

"Okay," Harry said, with a smile.

Hermione nodded, "Good. Now, I have to go Harry, I left things...a little out of place when I came here. You tell the others that I said, 'goodbye', okay?"

Harry shook his head, "No, Hermione, I really think that you should just - "

"Harry, no," Hermione said as she pried open the window pane, "...they don't know me like you do. They won't accept my explanation - especially Moody. He'd tie me to a chair before he let me go. And...and I don't want to have to say goodbye."

Harry regarded her momentarily before he spoke, "Okay," he said quietly, "Okay."

Hermione nodded as she pushed the window pane through so it swung out on an angle.

The cool night air instantly filled the room.

"Hermione," Harry began, "What are you going to do? Swing out the window? We both know you hate heights. Come on, I'll sneak you out the front door."

But Hermione shook her head, and then wrapped her arms firmly around him, "Be safe, Harry. I'll find that Horcrux and then we'll be one step closer to Voldemort."

Harry returned the embrace, "Be careful, Hermione."

"You too," she replied, and then added, "For Ron."

Harry smiled, "For Ron."

And then, Hermione grabbed both sides of the window, and stepped out onto the precarious ledge.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted after her, "Wait! Are you completely mental? It's a long drop - you'll break your legs! Look, let me just levitate you to the ground!"

But Hermione turned, and gave Harry one final smile as she launched herself from the shack, and transformed into a griffin before she plummeted to the rocky ground.

Wings pounding, Hermione forgot how exhausted she was, but she turned her head around to take one last look at the shack.

Harry was leaning out the window, his fists pumping at sky. A giant grin was spread across his face as he hooped and hollered for his friend.

She cried loudly into the night sky and then banked around a protruding ledge - heading swiftly back the way she came.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione was running again.

This time, she was running toward Muron Castle from the large black boulder at the tree line.

Her legs ached, but she pushed herself forward.

Her absence from Draco had left her unnerved.

_What if he's done something foolish?_

_What if he summoned Snape?_

_If he tried to follow me, he could have been caught, tortured, and who knows what else._

_Oh, Draco._

_Please be at the castle._

_Please be safe._

The storm that she had left hours prior was still raging furiously around her.

The rain drops stung the cut on her cheek.

But she ran.

When she finally reached the massive wooden doors of the castle, Hermione reached with her numb hands into her cloak to fish for her wand.

It was a fruitless attempt, because at that exact moment, the great hinges gave way and the huge doors swung outward.

And there was Draco.

In two strides he closed the distance between them, and instantly she was in his arms.

And never before, in her entire life, did embracing someone feel _so _right.

And there, in that moment, as the storm pounded loudly around them, Hermione had never felt so at home.

_Please Review!!_

_A/N: Ok, so I have never been to the White Cliffs of Dover. Hell - I've never even been to the U.K., so my description of the shore beneath the cliffs (if there even is a shoreline down there) might be completely and utterly wrong. If that's the case, please kindly put it in your hearts to ignore it. This is fiction, right:) Hopefully, some day I'll be able to travel...Also, I can't remember if it was Louis XIV that was the Sun King, or Louis XVI, so I apologize if that little tidbit is incorrect. Thanks!!  
_


	12. Chapter 12

The phrase, 'The morning after', generally connotes a negative reaction.

The morning after a bachelor's party.

The morning after a highly too impulsive decision.

The morning after a night on the town.

And for Hermione Granger, the phrase, 'The morning after', had the very same effect.

The morning after she returned from Order headquarters was not one of her more pleasant experiences in recent memory.

After she and Draco had embraced in the night storm; he quickly cast a drying spell - insisting that she was immediately warm; and then, succumbing to exhaustion - Hermione fell asleep on her favorite sofa by the fireplace.

When she awoke the next morning; Hermione found herself in her comfortable bed in the east tower.

_Some people exercise by playing Quidditch - others, apparently get a work out by carting people all over incalculable steps in an abandoned castle._

Once she was bathed and had dressed and headed down to the kitchen; Draco was waiting for her with his arms crossed over his chest.

There was a look of fury in his eyes.

Evidently, his gratitude that she was alive only went so far.

"Well?" he said.

"Well, what?" Hermione asked.

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

Hermione shrugged, "Absolutely nothing. I saved Lupin's life - what would you like me to say?"

As the shouting began, Hermione tried to block out much of what happened over the next twenty minutes.

Draco was pacing back and forth across the kitchen in an infuriating tirade about her "foolish decision" in leaving the castle. As he was counting off endless adjectives that were all synonyms with the word, "brainless", her mind wandered to the depths of the sea where a sunken ship rested like a hollowed tomb - encasing Ravenclaw's compass.

"...and after you cheated to sneak away..." Draco was saying.

"_Cheated_?" Hermione interrupted, "In what way did I cheat?"

"You used your Animagus," Draco said flatly.

"_That_ is not cheating. Check every spell book there is. There is nothing that says anything about an Animagus being in violation to any proper - "

"A _registered_ Animagus, Hermione. But, oh wait!" he shouted, as he waved his hands dramatically in the air, "No one in the Order is a registered Animagus, now are they?"

He scowled and set to work on some vegetables for breakfast.

Hermione sighed exasperatedly as she rolled her eyes, "And when did we lay the ground rules that we were having an official duel?" she snapped, "If I recall correctly, you used your Animagus form as well - and I don't remember you marching down to the Ministry of Magic to become a registered Animagus," she added as she sat down on one of the wobbly bar stools, "You're just bitter because I won."

"You did not win," Draco retorted, as he searched the cupboards for a frying pan.

"Oh really?" Hermione asked, with intrigue, as she folded her arms, "Let's see...since I got away from you and you were unable to detain me here at the castle, I daresay that I _did_ win."

Draco scowled again, and then went into a another tirade regarding some rubbish about her 'responsibilities to finish the job she had initially started'.

"Look," Hermione said, as Draco loudly set a plate of steaming food down in front of her, "I'm sorry that you were worried. But I couldn't have left Lupin to die - I had to go," she added quietly, as she stirred her searing vegetables, "I would have done the same for you."

Draco's head shot up as he sat down on the stool next to her. He eyed her skeptically, "You would?" he asked, quietly.

Hermione's anger instantly melted into compassion, "Of course I would, Draco," she said sincerely, as she placed her hand on his forearm, "I would think that after everything we have been through that you would know that."

Draco looked her over for a moment, and then his eyes smiled brightly.

They ate in silence for quite some time, until Hermione subconsciously rubbed the spot on her cheek where the cut had been the previous night.

Today, it was a faint, pink line against her otherwise flawless skin.

"I healed it last night," Draco said, as he surreptitiously glanced at the latest newspaper Hermione had brought from Hanoock, "The pink should fade within a couple of days."

"Thanks," Hermione said, as she played with her potatoes.

He nodded, blushing slightly as he became strangely engaged in an article entitled, _How to Properly Shear your Sheep._

Hermione smiled to herself, as she ate the remainder of her breakfast. Setting her fork down, she wiped her mouth with a napkin and turned to Draco, "I know where the last Horcrux is," she said, profoundly.

Draco's head turned in her direction so quickly that he had the slight appearance of a poltergeist, "What?" he asked - his eyes widening.

Hermione nodded her confirmation that he had heard her correctly, and then began reiterating everything that had happened the previous night. When she got to the part about Lupin's condition, she hesitated.

"What?" Draco asked, clearly engrossed in the story, "What was wrong with him? Do they know who did it?"

Hermione explained the symptoms as Draco's face wrinkled in disgust, and then she added, very quietly as she looked down at her hands, "Harry said that it was your father."

She waited for him to react, but Draco merely shoved himself off the stool, walked over to a small window in the rear of the kitchen, and stood with one hand pinching the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes tightly.

Hermione slowly got up from her own rickety stool and stood beside him, "Hey," she said, gently, as she placed her hand on his shoulder, "You are not your father. You've chosen a different path - I'm sorry..." she trailed off.

But Draco shook his head, "Don't you see, Hermione?" he asked, looking down at her concerned face, "My father is a monster. He kills and tortures anyone without a second thought. What if...what if that same monster is somehow lurking in me?"

His ashen eyes were wide and fearful.

But Hermione grabbed both of his hands, and held them firmly within her own, "Look at me," she demanded.

When Draco reluctantly met her gaze, he saw something in her eyes that no one other than Snape had showed him before - compassion.

"Draco," Hermione began, "You can't let your past dictate what you will become. Look - we all have some form of darkness within us. In the world, there is no black and white. Everyone is a different shade of gray. Now, whether you're a lighter shade of gray, or a darker shade of gray - that's something you have to decide for yourself."

"Hermione...", Draco began.

"No, listen to me, Draco," Hermione interrupted, "Abraham Lincoln said, 'I don't know who my grandfather was..."

But Draco finished for her, "...I am much more concerned to know what his grandson will be."

Hermione looked surprised, "What? You're a Lincoln enthusiast?"

Draco smiled softly, as he grasped Hermione's hands even tighter, "He seemed like a pretty good guy."

Hermione returned the smile, "But don't you see? No matter what you've come from, what kind of history your family has, you are the author of your own future."

"And Draco," she said, as she released her left hand and moved to gently lay it on his cheek, "You've already made that first step. The fact that you're here right now in this moment talking to me is proof enough."

Draco's eyes locked with Hermione's.

When her hand touched the skin of his face; he shivered.

"So forget your father," she concluded, as she released her hold and stepped away.

Draco nodded, "It's just that...Lupin...well, I mean, despite everything - I always did like him."

Hermione smiled, "Well, he's going to be fine, so don't worry yourself over a crime you didn't commit."

Draco nodded, "Okay. So, what happened after you saved Lupin?"

Hermione returned to the wobbly stool and told Draco everything Harry had said to her the previous night - Lupin's theories, the so called "ghost ship", Voldemort resurrecting the ship to seek the compass, the possible implications of the compass showing the owner that which they most desire, and Harry's inability to help retrieve this Horcrux.

When she was finished, Draco sat and leaned back on the stool next to Hermione. He ran a hand through his white-blond hair, making it somewhat unruly, as he processed everything she had just said.

"It doesn't even sound real," Draco said, as he turned towards Hermione, "It sounds like something out of _The Tales of Beetle the Bard._"

"Beetle the what?" Hermione asked, confused.

"Never mind," Draco said with a slight smile, "Doesn't it just seem like some grand adventure from out of a fiction novel?"

"You were the one that said that Voldemort was into dramatics," Hermione shrugged, "And besides, I'm not sure there's much that can surprise me anymore."

"No," said Draco, fondly, "I doubt there is."

Hermione smiled, "Well, since the Polyjuice Potion is ready, I can get everything packed and be ready to leave before tonight," she said, as she stood from the stool.

"Wait, just a second," Draco said, as he too stood, and gently placed her back in her seat.

He bent his head and looked directly into her eyes and said, "You know that I'm coming with you, right?"

Hermione raised her brow, quizzically, "But after everything Snape said - "

"I know what Snape said," Draco interrupted, still locking his eyes with hers. His voice was calm, controlled - but it carried an aura of power. "I don't care. Something could go wrong - there could be an ambush...really there are about one hundred factors of different variables that could occur, and I'm not letting you go by yourself. We've got plenty of Polyjuice Potion - no one will know that it's me."

Hermione eyed him momentarily before she spoke.

"All right, Draco," she said, slowly - steadily, "If you want to come; I won't stop you." But then she got too close to Draco's face, and he backed away nervously.

Grabbing onto the front collar of his robes, Hermione pulled his head down so that they were a whispers' breath apart, "But if Snape starts in on a roaring tirade, you won't have my sympathy - and I'll be sure to tell him that I hexed you and did everything in my power to make you stay. You won't have an alibi on this one," she deadpanned.

Draco smirked, "I wouldn't dream of asking that of you."

"Good," Hermione said, as she released his robes, "I'm going to start packing some supplies that we'll need," she added as she walked purposefully to the archway, "Why don't you go down to the dungeon and get the Polyjuice Potion - I've labeled everything that we'll need."

Draco nodded and headed down to the dungeon.

Hermione spent the next several hours in her room, sorting through various items of the Weasley twins' brilliant - albeit frightening inventions, Gillyweed, possible texts that could be useful as sources, and the few robes and cloaks that she had to her name. She had gone through her book pile several times, weighing which texts she might truly need, until she finally had everything tightly packed and shrunk into a bag that would easily sling over her shoulder.

As soon as she was finished, she descended the spiral stairs down into the cool dungeon.

"Draco?" she called, as she peering her head around the corner.

The Polyjuice supplies had been emptied from the shelves, and Draco was no where to be found.

Frowning, Hermione headed back up the spiral stairs, and staring climbing the stairs to the west wing of the castle.

Muron Castle was like a giant mirror bent in on itself. If an imaginary line was drawn straight through the entryway and into the far hall, the east and west sides of the castle reflected perfectly on each other.

And even though the west wing of the castle was virtuously a cloned copy of the wing that led to her bedroom, she felt odd as she ascended the final step.

To her recollection, Hermione had only been in the west wing twice. Once when she first arrived at Muron Castle, and once when she was bound and determined to find the fluffy pink owl that she was certain Draco slept with.

But as she walked through the darkened hallway, lit only by every other torch on the side walls, she checked herself in mid-stride.

_Why was I never able to find his quarters?_

Curiosity always getting the better of her, Hermione poked her head through every doorway that she passed, searching for Draco.

When she finally same to a dead end at the end of the hallway, she looked around in defeat.

_Where the hell is he?_

"Draco?" she hollered, down the long corridor.

The sound reverberated off the stone walls and created an echo that passed again and again out towards the main atrium.

"Draco," she called again, "I know you're up here somewhere, and if you can hear me - you better show yourself this instant, or I'm leaving without you!"

Silence.

"Fine," Hermione mumbled as she turned to head back down the dark hallway.

As she passed the nearest torch, there was a slight movement in her peripheral vision. Startled, she turned her head sharply to the right. The only thing that was in front of her, however, was a muggle portrait in the three quarter length view. The sitter was male, elderly, and sat with his arm akimbo - his riding gloves hanging from his left hand. Hermione recognized from her Muggle Studies class when they briefly discussed the history of art that male sitters displayed in this manner were meant to show dominance, power, and in the seventeenth - century, male superiority.

As Hermione stood closer to the panel, she squinted in the dim light to observe the sitter's eyes. For such an old painting, they were surprisingly alive. And then, without warning, they blinked at her.

Tripping over her robes, Hermione stumbled backwards and screamed loudly as she simultaneously drew her wand. Focusing on the eyes again, she noted that this time around, they appeared glazed over, worn, and cracked - much like the rest of the painting.

_Maybe I've finally gone mad._

Hermione rubbed her eyes, and looked again at the painting. The same lifeless eyes that were long dead stared back at her. Glancing over her shoulder, she continued quickly down the hallway.

As she passed the second torch, the wall to her right suddenly shifted and sounded as though it was caving in under it's own weight.

Hermione backed against the opposite wall in alarm - her wand pointing in the direction of the disturbance.

And then, Draco appeared out of nowhere from behind a hidden doorway that seemed to instantly materialize. He had a smile on his face and was looking rather pleased with himself.

"You're awfully jumpy, Hermione," he said, as he threw a pack over his shoulders.

Hermione glared at his smiling face, "That was you? In the painting? What the hell were you trying to pull? You scared me to death!"

Draco chuckled softly as he adjusted his pack, "Sorry. It's just that I heard you calling my name, so I checked out of the peep hole, and you just happened to see me - I wasn't intentionally trying to frighten you - although it was a pretty good laugh."

Hermione scowled, and crossed her arms over her chest, "So, would you like to explain about the secret quarters, and why you made such a big deal about them?"

Draco shrugged, as he opened the hidden door for her to pass through, "You were the one that made the big deal. I just enjoyed seeing you fuss over it," he added with a smile.

Hermione glared and walked through the secret passageway. The corridor was low and narrow, and behind her, Draco had to bend slightly to avoid hitting his head on the rounded archway that was the ceiling. As she continued through the darkness, she came to another door that opened into a spacious room that had light filtering through the narrow stained glass windows. The floor was adorned with massive bear-skinned rugs and a moderately sized fireplace was just smoking itself out.

Hermione whirled around and faced Draco, "Master bedroom?" she questioned, with a smug look on her face.

Draco chuckled, "Kind of. Snape wanted me as hidden as possible right after Dumbledore's death. The muggles don't even know about this passageway in here."

Hermione nodded as she looked up at the high vaulted ceiling that created a massive barrel vault above. The ribs supporting each archway were clearly visible.

"But, you know," Draco was saying as he followed Hermione around the room like an obedient dog, "This really is the nicer room...you can move your stuff in here...I really would be fine in the east wing..."

"Draco," Hermione interrupted, "No. I was just curious. Besides, Snape's right - It's good for you to be as hidden as possible."

"I don't need to be protected," Draco said flatly.

Hermione shrugged, "Neither do I," she replied as she returned to the narrow corridor that let it's way back out to the west wing, "But it's like Snape said - you have two sides that are hunting you. It's best to play it safe."

Draco rolled his eyes and followed her through the passageway.

"Do you have the Polyjuice Potion?" Hermione called over her shoulder, as she emerged into the west hallway.

"Right here," Draco said, shaking the pack that was hanging from his shoulder.

Hermione nodded, as she continued to the main atrium of the castle, and quickly summoned her own pack.

"What all did you pack?" Draco asked, as Hermione slug the strap over her shoulder.

"A little of everything," she replied, "Who knows how long we'll be gone. We could be back by late tonight, or it could take a week - it's best to be prepared. I also packed some dried fruit from the kitchen."

Draco made a disgusted face and stuck out his tongue.

Hermione eyed him narrowly, "What are you - five?" she questioned at his childish gesture, "You can go hungry, then - more food for me."

Draco scowled as he followed her to the entrance with the massive doors.

"Hand me the Polyjuice Potion," Hermione said, with authority.

Draco obeyed and fumbled through his pack for a moment before extricating two small viles. He glanced momentarily at the labels, and then handed Hermione the one in his left hand.

Hermione uncorked the vile with a slight, "_pop!_", and then downed the grotesque looking contents. She smacked her lips together loudly after she swallowed.

She could feel her body beginning to change as she watched Draco finish the contents of his own vile - he wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his robe.

And suddenly, Hermione was slightly shrinking. Her skin color was turning a dark olive color, and her normally chestnut hair was now as black as Harry's. Her slender figure was thickening rapidly. Hard muscles took the place of her feminine physique. She biceps tightened reflexively.

As she looked at Draco, she saw that he was shrinking dramatically. His white blond hair was becoming just as raven as her own, and his forearms were growing bigger than his entire upper arm.

"What am I, Pop-Eye?" Draco, asked, as his olive calloused fingers touched his massive forearms.

Hermione shrugged, "You're a blacksmith. Evidently, they have strong forearms. But look at us - we must be brother and sister. Our hair and skin are the same color, and we're both roughly the same height," she said as she stared at Draco's eyes, "What color are my eyes?" she asked.

Draco looked at Hermione closely, "Green," he said.

Hermione nodded, "Yours too."

"So, what's the game plan?" Draco asked, as he continued to glance at his forearms.

Hermione was fingering her black, shiny hair before she looked up, "First we change into muggle clothes," she said as she walked through the archway that led to the kitchen, "Once we reach the apparation point," she hollered, "We'll apparate to Le Havre. I stopped there briefly before I went to Paris with my parents. It's near the coast. That's where I first heard the story about the ghost ship, "she added.

There were a few moments of silence before she spoke again. "I'm sure there are muggles there that have speculated over exactly where it sank the second time."

"You decent?" she asked, hollering from the archway.

"Always," Draco replied with a smirk.

When Hermione returned, she was wearing dark jeans and a thick green, wool sweater. The green of the sweater made her eyes stand out even more noticeably.

She adjusted her pack, and stuffed her cloak into the top zipper before noticing Draco. He had changed into a black turtleneck that seemed to be busting at the seams around the arms, as well as a pair of blue jeans.

"Ready?" she asked, as she stood and brandished her wand.

"Absolutely. I've been cooped up in the castle for too long. Shall we?"

Hermione nodded.

And they were off.

The wind seemed extremely fierce as they made their way to the apparation border by the large black boulder.

_It could be worse, though. It's usually raining. _

_This is probably what the townsfolk here call a "good day"._

As soon as Hermione and Draco passed the boulder, Hermione grabbed Draco's massive forearm tightly.

"Hang tight."

Draco smiled as he felt the darkness and compression surround him.

When he opened his eyes again, he was momentarily startled.

They were standing near a waterway that led further inland. The sun was hanging low in the sky, but as Draco turned to his right, he saw a bridge bowing over the waterway. Large commercial buildings adorned either side of the river, and Draco was relatively surprised that with such structures around them; there were surprisingly few people in the area.

Hermione tugged softly on his sleeve as she turned and headed away from the buildings, "Come on, I've brought us too far inland. We need to get to the coast."

"How far are we?" Draco asked, as he shifted his pack.

"Not far."

They walked in silence for several minutes. After a moment, they passed a few teenagers who were standing in a circular formation around a bench - laughing and shouting in French. As they continued on their way, Draco could sense that they were getting closer to the coast. The wind started rustling his onyx hair, and when Hermione turned a corner down a narrow alleyway to their right, Draco could smell the salt water.

The alley was dark and narrow. Hermione was moving around an iron ladder when she noticed two figures talking softly to one another just ahead. As she made to approach them, Draco grabbed her roughly from behind.

"What?" Hermione demanded, as she was spun around.

"Two guys in a dark alleyway?" Draco asked, his green eyes startled, "What, are you thick?"

Hermione somehow managed to free herself from Draco's massive grip, "They're muggles," she retorted in a hissing whisper, "Now come on! Do you want to find that ship or not?"

Draco relented as Hermione made her way over to the figures and quickly came around her so that the men were sure to see him as well.

"Excusez-moi, mais..." Hermione began.

"No French," the larger of the two men interrupted, "From Spain. Little English."

Hermione cleared her throat and tried again, "¿Ustedes hablan Español?"

The other man nodded as he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, "Sí."

The large man spoke before Hermione could continue, "Somos de España. Por trabajo, viajamos a France dos veces cada mes por barco."

_We're from Spain. We travel to France twice a month by ship for work._

Hermione nodded, "Esta bien."

Draco eyes widened behind her, "How in the world to you know Spanish?" he whispered.

Hermione swung her pack around so that it looked as though she were merely adjusting it's weight; her objective, however, was to hit Draco cleanly across the chest - which she successfully accomplished.

"Ouch!" he complained in a muffled tone.

But Hermione ignored him, "Estamos buscando por un barco."

_We are looking for a ship._

"¿Un barco? The larger man laughed roughly, "Hay muchos barcos aqui, senorita."

_There are many ships here._

Hermione nodded as she struggled with the next translation, "Sí, pero, este barco es..."

_Yes, but this ship is..._

"Embrujado."

_Haunted._

The two men looked at one another in alarm and then turned their attention back to Hermione.

"Ahh...so you know of the ghost ship," the man holding the cigarette said in a thick Spanish accent as he stepped forward.

Hermione tried to suppress her excitement by merely nodding, "Well, we've heard rumors..."

"Sí, they are true," he said, taking a quick puff from his cigarette before flicking it into a puddle of stagnant water.

He walked until he was right in front of Hermione and looked down at her. She back away slightly, bumping into Draco's broad chest. Involuntarily, she gripped her wand in her jean pocket.

The man had a thin black mustache that covered the expanse of his upper lip, and when he spoke, his crooked teeth were stained yellow.

"The ship," he began with his thick accent, "is embrujado - haunted, you said. No one goes there. Peligroso - what is the word? Oh sí, _dangerous._ The water glows green at night. And all of the sea workers know the ship is under the surface...haunted by spirits...The spirits are...enojados - angry."

Draco came around Hermione and stood in front of the man, "Can you tell us where it is?"

The man regarded Draco warily for a moment, "And who are you?"

"We're reporters from Britain. We're doing a documentary on haunted places - homes, buildings, ships - you name it. We heard about the ship here so we've come to do some preliminary research."

The man with the mustache looked at Draco as if he hadn't completely understood everything he said. But after a moment, he nodded, and said, "We can tell you where it is, but we will not go. Tenemos miedo..."

_We've afraid._

Hermione nodded, "That's fine. Thank you."

The man smirked and then turned back to his comrade. They began speaking to one another in rapid Spanish with hushed whispers as Draco turned to Hermione, "Spirits? Don't you think the Dark Lord would use something a little more concrete?" he asked, quietly.

Hermione shook her head, "I don't know. Unless it's something that Voldemort bewitched for anyone who tried to gain access to the ship. The prospect of ghosts could be enough to ward away any curious muggles...but maybe they're something like the Inferi. With Voldemort, you never really know what kind of madness you're dealing with - we should be cautious."

Draco nodded as the men turned towards them, "Vamos."

_Let's go._

Hermione and Draco followed the two Spaniards along the rocky coast for about a hour. All forms of civilization seemed to have been left behind. Gone were the houses, buildings, and busy street noises. For awhile, sounds of birds and other wildlife chattered with them along the terrain, but as soon as the sun set, the only sound that could be heard were the ocean waves rolling onto the shore.

"So," Draco said, interrupting the silence as they followed the two men, "How is it that you know Spanish, exactly?"

Hermione smiled into the darkness, "Before my father starting his practice as a dentist, he traveled around with the Peace Corp to third world countries helping kids with dental problems. He was in Mexico for about two years before he met my mum. When I was growing up, he would teach me new words in Spanish - until eventually we could have conversations together. I tried to keep up with it, but once I started going to Hogwarts - I became a little sidetracked."

"There's an understatement," Draco said, as he sidestepped around a large rock.

Only a few moments later, the two Spaniards stopped in front of them, and the man with the mustache turned to Hermione, "Mira - _Look._ Just around that rock ledge up ahead - that is where you will find the ghost ship, senorita."

Hermione's eyes tried to adjust to dark as she searched the landscape that was several meters ahead of her. A dense fog was rolling over what Hermione assumed to be a rock peninsula that was jutting out into the ocean.

She nodded, "Gracias por todo."

The man nodded and then hurried away with his comrade as they returned the way they had just come. Just before they were out of earshot, Hermione could have sworn she heard the larger man say, "Aye...tan loco..."

_Crazy._

Hermione smiled, despite herself, "Crazy?" she said softly, so that Draco couldn't even hear, "You have no idea."

And then she turned and found Draco gazing cautiously up the shore.

"Do you think it's safe to use light now?" he asked, as he drew his wand.

Hermione turned around to search for the two Spaniards.

With the thick fog, they could have been twenty meters up the coast, or one hundred meters. She couldn't see a thing.

"I think we're okay," Hermione replied as she too, drew her wand. "From what those men said, there aren't a lot of people that come around here - and besides, our wands would like flashlights from a distance to any muggles."

"A flash - what?"

"Never mind."

Draco lighted his wand, and Hermione followed suit.

The light from their wands made it even more difficult to see. The light shone directly onto the dense fog, but went no further.

"_Nox!_" Hermione said, and it was dark once again.

She looked to her left and found Draco's olive skinned face, "Looks like we'll just have to be careful."

Draco nodded and extinguished his wand as he started up a narrow pathway that led up to the peninsula.

"Blimey, this fog is thick," he muttered, as he caught his foot on a rock.

Hermione was silent for a moment as she followed Draco along, "This is weird," she said, pausing to take in a panoramic view of her surroundings, "I'm no meteorologist, but I've never heard of fog like this in France."

Draco stopped walking just ahead of her, "Maybe it's just some freak thing."

Hermione shook her head as she walked over to where he was standing, "I don't think so. It just feels..." she trailed off.

"Feels what?"

"Dark."

Draco raised his dark eyebrows as he gently grabbed Hermione's upper arm, "Dark how?"

"I don't know...it's difficult to explain. Every time I've been in close contact with a Hoxcrux, I get this feeling...I can't describe it..."

She looked up and sought Draco's eyes that were now an unfamiliar green.

"The Horcrux is here - I know it."

Draco nodded, and then squeezed her hand reassuringly. Slowly, he continued out towards the point, pulling Hermione along right behind him.

The fog made it nearly impossible to see anything, but as Draco and Hermione reached the point of the peninsula, they both saw exactly what the Spaniards were talking about.

Turning to their right and looking around the rock wall was a deep cove. Great rocks jutted upward creating a perfect semi circle within it's expanse.

And the water, to Hermione's surprise, was glowing a brilliant green.

Still holding Draco's hand, she walked to the edge of the point where the water met rock, and gazed into the depths below.

The light that was emanating from beneath the surface made it appear as though there were several scuba divers beneath the waves - all shinning flashlights around brightly. The reflection of the light from the surface of the water hit Hermione's face - making everything in the cove take on an eerie green tint.

"Okay," said Draco, nervously, breaking the silence, "Now what?"

Hermione was still staring into the water, but finally she turned to him, "We raise the ship."

"_Accio?_" Draco, asked, skeptically.

Hermione nodded, "That's what Lupin thinks Voldemort did. But if it doesn't work, I brought some gillyweed."

Draco shifted as he rubbed his eyebrow with his hand, "I think I like the first alternative better."

"Agreed."

Hermione stepped back from the edge of the rock and looked at Draco, "Ready?" she asked.

"Yeah. On three?"

"On three."

Draco released Hermione's hand and pointed his wand in the direction of the ship.

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

"_Accio!_" Hermione and Draco shouted loudly in unison.

Silence.

Nothing.

Draco turned to Hermione, "Umm...should we try again?"

Hermione nodded.

But it didn't work the second time.

Or the third.

Or the fourth.

"Dammit!" Hermione cursed, as she kicked a nearby rock into the water.

When the rock hit the water, it rippled for some time, and then - without warning, there was a trembling beneath the surface.

It felt like a small earthquake.

"What was that?" Draco asked, peering into the water.

"No idea," Hermione replied, as she, too, gazed into the sea.

Slowly, she removed her pack from her shoulder and sat it down on a nearby ledge. She opened the zipper and began searching through it's tightly packed contents. A moment later she surfaced with two jars - one in each hand. Each jar contained what appeared to be slimy, grayish-green rat tails.

"Gillyweed?" Draco asked, though already knowing the answer.

Hermione nodded, "Yes. This dosage should be enough to last us both for an hour."

She bent over and began removing her shoes and then socks. Then, gingerly, she reached her leg out over the surface of the water and touched the sea with her big toe.

"It's cold," she reported, retracting her leg, and moving to remove her sweatshirt.

Draco was still looking at the substance in the glass jar he was holding. When he saw that Hermione was nearly ready to dive in, he quickly scrambled to remove his socks and shoes.

"How much longer will our Polyjuice Potion last?" Draco asked, as he pulled the turtleneck over his head, revealing a huge barrel chest.

Hermione was standing in a white, athletic tank top with her arms wrapped tightly around her body. "Probably about as long as we will have with the Gillyweed."

She reached down and picked up her glass jar; unscrewed the lid, and then pulled out the rubbery contents.

"Ready?"

Draco was fiddling with the lid of his jar, but only seconds later he was standing next to Hermione, holding the Gillyweed in his left hand.

He raised the magical plant to his lips and then turned his head toward Hermione, "Let's do this."

A second later he was chewing on the most rubbery, dreadful thing he could have ever imagined.

"Here," Hermione said in a nasal voice, while pinching her nose, "If you plug your nose while you swallow, the taste isn't nearly as bad."

Draco mimicked her actions, and mere seconds later, he felt a sharp pain on either side of his neck. His hands immediately shot to his head, and when he looked at Hermione, he saw that she was doing the same thing.

"Harry said it was...painful...at first," she gasped as the air left her lungs and gills formed on the sides of her neck.

"Can't...breathe..." Draco said, as he clutched at his throat.

Hermione stumbled over to him, gave him one hard shove, and a moment later, he was in the green water.

The freezing water felt like small daggers all over him. His body reacted by tightly flexing as he struggled for breath under the surface.

As Draco's eyes struggled to adjust to the blinding green light surrounding him, he had two startling revelations.

First, that he could breath underwater.

And second, Hermione had shoved him into the dangerous cove.

A moment later, he heard the percussion of someone entering the water next to him.

Hermione floated a meter away from him, still clutching her neck.

"You shoved me!" Draco said - his voice sounding strange in this new underwater environment.

Hermione blinked rapidly for several seconds before responding, "Well, you can't breathe out of the water with gills. And you said you couldn't breathe..." she trailed off. "Merlin..." she chattered, "the water's freezing."

Hermione rubbed her arms vigorously as she took in her surroundings. A moment later, she clutched her wand tightly. It was much more difficult to grip with her newly formed webbed hands.

As she looked down, she saw a massive ship lying on the ocean floor - sixty or so meters beneath them.

"Bloody hell," Draco said, quietly, causing a small amount of bubbles to exit his gills and float steadily towards the surface.

The ship was bent completely on it's side. All of the windows along the hull had long been broken - the atmospheric pressure of the water at sixty meters down and the presence of time both contributing their demise. A strong beam of light was coming from each of the spaces where the windows should have been. The huge mast was cracked at it's center and resided several meters away from where it was originally attached.

Hermione was still hovering and adjusting to her new appendages when she turned to Draco, "You ready?"

He nodded his head, grabbed her webbed hand and then began kicking downward.

As they slowly descended, Hermione felt the pressure building in her ears. Out of habit, she went to light her wand - but immediately realized the pointlessness of the gesture. Despite it being late evening, the greenish glow that emanated from the ship lit up the entire expanse of the cove. Oddly, there was no marine wildlife any where that she could see.

They were alone.

As they reached the side of the ship's hull, Draco turned to Hermione, "Did Lupin mention where in the ship the compass was supposed to be?" he asked -his voice slightly obscured by the water.

Hermione squinted in concentration, "Not that I can recall. He definitely said that it was _inside_ the ship, though - that's where we should start."

A small stream of bubbles left Hermione's gills as she spoke.

Draco nodded and placed his webbed hand on the rotting wood next to the opening of the window, "I'll go in first," he said, as he peered through the empty space. "Wait for my signal."

"Okay."

And then Draco was squeezing through the small window opening. There was barely enough space to fit his huge barrel chest.

Hermione waited anxiously for several moments outside the ship - glancing warily in every direction for any hint of movement or danger.

Finally, Draco's voice carried through the window, "Okay, Hermione. All clear."

Hermione put her palms on the base of the window and she pulled her body through the opening.

The room that she had just entered appeared to be the original sleeping quarters of the sailors. Several decayed beds lay toppled on the far wall - some still even with their sheets attached. The sight of the empty beds made a chill run down Hermione's spine.

_The men that died - this was where they slept._

"Well, we might as well start in this room. We only have an hour. I'll take the left side - you take the right," said Hermione as she swam to the end of the large room.

As Hermione searched under the overturned decaying chairs and various knick-nacks, she bumped her head on a ledge on the interior hull. Immediately debris staring falling all around her. She cried out and covered the back of her head as a small section of the ship caved in.

The moment he heard Hermione scream, Draco swam across the the length of the room searching for her. The movement of the debris had churned the sand and sediment laying on the floor of the ship, and Draco's vision was obscured, as sand and mud floated all around him.

"Hermione! Hermione! Answer me!" he hollered as he groped helplessly through the water as his hands sought for Hermione.

Finally, she emerged as the swirling sand began to recede.

Coughing, she looking up at Draco as he grabbed her and began to immediately search for injuries.

"I'm fine! Just bumped my head," she coughed and then caught Draco's skeptical stare. "It scared me more than anything," she relented, "I just lost all sense of direction and couldn't figure out where I was."

"You're sure?" Draco asked.

"Yeah. I'm fine," Hermione said as she looked around the expanse of the room, "Come on. We don't have much time."

Releasing her slowly, Draco returned to his task.

The pair searched the entire expanse of the room - including where Hermione had caused the small cave in.

There was still no sign of the compass.

"It's not in here," Draco finally relented, as he emerged from behind an ancient looking dresser, "We better move on or we're going to run out of time."

Hermione nodded and swam over to a opening that led to a long, narrow hallway. She looked both left and right before she turned back to Draco - who was silently waiting behind her.

"We need to split up. There's too much ground to cover. If we're going to be meticulous - the only way we can do it is to split up."

Draco seemed slightly hesitant, but reluctantly nodded his head.

"I'll go this way," Hermione motioned left with her head, "I think it leads up to the deck; you go back down the hallway and search through the rest of the rooms."

"Okay. Be careful."

Hermione nodded, and then she was gone.

Draco turned right and swam to the next room he came to. He searched through several rooms with no luck until he came to a door had a massive dent that jutted outward towards him. When Draco went to push the door inward; it didn't budge.

_Dammit. Come on._

He propped himself fully against the door and the shoved with all of his might.

One shove.

Two shoves.

Three shoves.

Finally it caved in - creating a muffled "clang".

His vision momentarily obscured by the debris, sand, and other ocean waste, Draco waited until the sand settled before the entered the room.

The room before him was massive. The other utility rooms he had searched in were easily half this size. And while the bunker they were in earlier had several beds scattered haphazardly around it's entirety, this room had only one bed.

_The captain's headquarters._

Like the other rooms, time and the ocean pressure had taken a toll on everything within the chamber. Sand lay over the wooden floor - which was actually the side wall of the ship since the vessel was completely turned on it's side. The solitary bed lay crunched and destroyed in a massive heap in the far corner of the room. As Draco swam around a large overturned cabinet, he nearly dropped his wand as he checked himself in mid-stroke.

Before him, laying on the floor, was the body of a stained skeleton.

His heart pounded furiously in his chest as he slowly calmed himself.

_It's just a skeleton._

_It can't hurt you._

Draco tightened the grip on his wand as he studied the specimen before him. Whether by some sick joke, or a rare chance of coincidence, the skeleton was still wearing a captain's hat. As Draco peered at the hat and his gaze drifted momentarily downward, his eyes widened in alarm.

Around the skeleton's neck, sitting like a proud broach or pendant, was an ancient looking compass.

Draco sucked in a massive amount of water as he yelled as loud as his voice could carry underwater, "Hermione! I found it! Come quick! It's here!"

Within seconds, Hermione was swimming through the entryway.

"Where is it?" she panted.

Draco turned to tell her but stopped immediately, "Hermione! They Polyjuice Potion!" he said as he took in her appearance, "It's gone! You're back to normal!"

Hermione looked down at her now paler skin, saw her chestnut hear floating around her head wildly and then looked directly at Draco.

"You too! But you're hair's still black!"

Draco momentarily looked himself over and then remembered himself, "Come on! We have to hurry! That means that we don't have much time left with the Gillyweed! Come look!"

Hermione swam quickly over to Draco, gasped slightly when she saw the skeleton, but then she, too, noticed the compass on it's neck.

Hermione bent closer, taking in it's ornate detail, symmetry, and fine craftsmanship. She looked up just as Draco's hand extended to pull it off the skeleton.

"No!" Hermione screamed, as she grabbed Draco's arm.

"What!?" he demanded, slightly alarmed by her scream.

"You can't just grab it. It's too easy...it has to be cursed...or booby trapped or something. Voldemort wouldn't make it this easy."

"Well," said Draco, slightly annoyed, "Then what do you suggest we do?"

Hermione looked pensive as she chewed on her lower lip.

"_Accio_ _compass_!" she cried.

Nothing happened.

"Hmm...didn't think so - but it was worth a shot," she said, as she scrutinized the skeleton.

Over the next minute, Hermione tried summoning the skeleton itself, the hat...anything that she could think of - but to no avail.

"I just don't know!" she cried, "And we only have minutes left with the Gillyweed!"

Draco looked her over momentarily, "That's why we improvise," he said as he stretched his hand forward again.

"No!" Hermione screamed, again - pulling his hand back.

"Hermione! What else can we do? This is our only chance!" he hollered. The intensity in his ashen eyes was unlike anything Hermione had seen in them before.

And before she could say anything, Draco reached forward and grabbed the compass.

_A/N: My first cliffhanger ending! Please review!!!!!_


	13. Chapter 13

The moment that Draco's hand touched the compass; two things happened at once.

First, a blood curdling scream came from Draco with such force and intensity that the fact that they were underwater became irrelevant - as far as Hermione was concerned, the whole of France could have heard it.

Second, the skeleton's right hand shot up and latched itself around Draco's throat - abruptly cutting off the screaming, and more importantly - Draco's windpipe.

Hermione immediately went into action.

She began firing off stunning spells and jinxes at the skeleton as quickly as she was capable. But no matter how forceful the spell; the creature would not release it's hold.

"Dammit, let go of him!" she screamed, as she fired off a powerful stunner directly at the skeleton's face.

If anything, the grip became even tighter - Draco let out a horrid chocking sound as his lips began turning a dreadful shade of blue.

_Think!_

_Think!_

_Think!_

_What can I do??_

And suddenly, the answer hit her as abruptly as if she had just had the wind knocked out of her.

Wandless magic.

While Voldemort would expect any witch or wizard to attempt to fight off the skeleton with their wands; in his arrogance, he would have never considered the slight - but distinct properties of wandless magic that differentiated from "commonplace magic."

Hermione quickly pocked her wand, extended her right arm forward and shouted with all the force in her body, "_Reducto!_"

A stream of red erupted from Hermione's palm and hit the skeleton square in the ribcage - throwing it violently back as it released it's hold on Draco. Simultaneously, the compass was jarred free of the skeleton's neck.

Draco was clutching his neck with a painful expression on his face, "The Gillyweed..." he trailed off.

Hermione felt it too - the gills on her neck were shrinking at a rapid pace.

"Head for the surface!" she ordered him, "I'll grab the compass!"

Draco seemed slightly reluctant, but the urgency for air pushed him through the entry door.

And he was gone.

Hermione turned on the spot to grab the compass. The current of the water had caused it to drift slightly and it was now hiding behind the leg of an old cabinet. Hermione snatched the chain it was connected to and pulled upwards.

She began to turn and kick away, but the compass chain pulled her back.

The chain was caught under a floorboard and would not budge.

_Come on!_

Hermione pleaded silently to herself as she willed the compass to break free from it's hold under the wooden floorboard. And suddenly, she felt her lungs begin to burn for air.

Her gills were gone.

And she was still sixty meters from the surface.

Hermione gripped the chain with both her hands, anchored her feet to the floor, and tugged with all of the strength in her body.

A sudden crack sounded beneath her as the floorboard finally gave way, and she yanked the compass up forcefully. The momentum with which she had been pulling caused her to stumble back and float to the opposite side of the room. The underwater environment cushioned Hermione's fall, but as she turned to make for the entry door, she felt a tight grip around her wrist - and despite being underwater, whatever had a hold on her; it was burning her flesh.

Hermione cried out - letting the last of her oxygen escape through her lips as she turned to see the stained skeleton clinging to her arm.

Gripping the compass tightly with the wrist that was being burned, Hermione stretched her right arm towards the skeleton and thought of the jinx in her mind.

_Reducto!_

The same red jet of light soared from Hermione's hand and knocked the skeleton back to the other side of the room.

Lungs burning for air, Hermione frantically began swimming to the entryway. Faintly, she could hear the skeleton shuffling from beneath the rubble and preparing for a second attack. Crawling through the opening, Hermione struggled down the hallway, and finally managed to find the room that she and Draco had originally entered through.

Her lungs felt as though they were on fire. And as she scrambled to the narrow window opening that led to the exterior of the ship, the panic began to take over.

A loud clash sounded behind her - whatever curse had animated the skeleton would not let him give up so easily._  
_

_I'm going to die._

_I'm going to die._

_I'm going to die._

The pressure on Hermione's lungs was too great, and she knew that she would soon succumb. As she pulled herself through the window with her last ounce of strength, she felt the water enter her mouth. Roughly, it assaulted her insides, forcing it's way down her throat, and when she gasped, the salty sea finally triumphed, and vengefully penetrated her lungs.

Hermione's eyes opened widely with fright.

This was the end.

She knew it.

Dying was just as terrifying as she imagined it to be.

And Hermione was alone.

Completely and utterly alone.

Clutching the compass tightly in her left hand, her vision began to black out.

Surprisingly, her last thoughts before she lost consciousness were not of Harry - nor Ron.

But she remembered Draco's touch on her hand.

The intense, indescribable look in his ashen eyes.

His embrace.

And then, she remembered no more.

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After Draco had broken through the surface, he gasped for breath for several prolonged moments and began searching rapidly around him for any sign of Hermione.

The fog within the cove had become so dense that Draco couldn't see an arm's length in front of him. Twice he bumped into the shore as the fog disoriented any since of direction.

Splashing back to where he thought he had originally surfaced, he cried out, "Hermione!! Hermione! Can you hear me? Where are you?"

With the thick fog, it was impossible for him to tell whether Hermione had already surfaced, or if she was still somehow underwater.

Shivering, Draco took a deep breath and submerged himself beneath the surface.

Without the Gillyweed, his eyes burned in the salty water as he searched frantically for Hermione. The green glow from the beneath the surface shone brilliantly, and it only took him five seconds before he saw Hermione's limp form floating near the hull of the ship.

Swimming towards the surface to get one large breath before he dived; Draco's palm stung annoyingly from the salt water where the compass had burned him.

Breaking through to the fog, Draco coughed and gasped for air as he steadied himself - taking deep breaths to fill up the capacity of his lungs. With one final breath, he broke through the water and kicked furiously towards Hermione's lifeless form.

The water pressure seemed intensified by nearly one hundred times without the Gillyweed. Pausing briefly, Draco plugged his nose and blew out hard - equalizing the pressure as he descended. Kicking violently, he forced himself down until his arms grabbed Hermione firmly around her midsection. He turned on the spot, and began kicking with all the strength his legs could muster as he headed for the surface.

A muffled explosion sounded behind him, and when Draco turned he saw the cursed skeleton - emerging from a blasted hole in the ship's hull.

It was still after them.

The surface seemed to be farther away with every kick. Draco's muscles spasmed in protest as he pulled upward frantically with the added weight of Hermione. He could hear the inhuman grunts from the skeleton below him as he continued to ascend as quickly as his body would allow.

After a few seconds that seemed like eternity, Draco finally broke the surface of the water - gasping and chocking for air. His thankful lungs took in heaving breaths of gratitude as he swam blindly through the fog - searching for the rocky ridge that was the shoreline.

Swimming backwards and pulling Hermione along next to his chest, he was alarmed that when he broke the surface and had gasped for air, that she did not.

From what Draco could see, her face was whiter and paler than it had ever been - her lips, a deep shade of blue.

"Hermione?" he begged, slightly shaking her as he pulled her to where he thought the ridge awaited them.

"Hermione! Can you hear me?"

But her blue lips did not move.

And suddenly, there was a great tug on his leg and his head was pulled momentarily under the surface.

Kicking and struggling with Hermione in his grip, Draco resurfaced as the burning arm of the skeleton continued to attempt to pull them both under.

"Get off!" screamed Draco, as he kicked wildly.

The skeleton's burning grip did not loosen, but with one lucky kick to the jaw, Draco sent him sprawling away.

Free of the creature, Draco swam with all his strength.

Finally, he bumped in the the rocky ridge.

Keeping one hand on the strap of Hermione's tank top so that he did not lose her beneath the surface, he hauled himself out of the water, and then pulled Hermione's limp body up after him.

Gently, he laid her down on the uneven surface.

A violent splashing nearby caused Draco to look up in alarm. The skeleton was thrashing wildly as it swam over to the ledge. Draco drew his wand - in what he knew was a fruitless attempt to ward off the creature - but there was no need. As soon as the skeleton tried to haul itself out of the sea, it let out a barbaric scream and reluctantly descended beneath the surface.

Startled, Draco watched the ripples where the creature had submerged; but it did not return.

Pocketing his wand, Draco bent his head down and turned it sideways as he pressed his ear to Hermione's lips; listening for a breath.

After several seconds of nothing, Draco went into action. Although he was a pureblood, Draco's mother had taught him the muggle emergency procedure of CPR. And in this terrifying moment - he had never been more thankful.

Lacing his fingers together tightly, he winced as his burned palm rubbed against the back of his other hand. Finding the spot where Hermione's ribcage met, he began forcefully pushing down in intervals of five. Then, tipping her head back slightly and plugging her nose, Draco placed his lips over hers, and breathed deeply.

He repeated the process several times - pushing down hard on her chest, and breathing into her mouth.

Her body remained still.

"Come on, Hermione!"

"Please!" he yelled, as he placed his mouth over hers - forcing air into her lungs.

"Hermione, don't even think about it!"

He pounded again hard on her chest.

"I need you! Please!"

"Don't you dare leave me!"

Tears flowed freely down Draco's cheeks as he sobbed uncontrollably.

And suddenly - wonderfully, Hermione's head jerked violently to the side, and she began retching up the water that was caught in her lungs.

"Hermione?" Draco cried, as he helped turn her onto her side.

She coughed and gagged for a good thirty seconds - her chest heaving in massive amounts of oxygen.

And slowly, her eyes fluttered open.

"Hermione?" Draco asked, gently, as he placed his hand behind her head to cushion it.

Her sorrel eyes locked with Draco's.

Her trembling lips were trying to speak.

"What?" Draco asked quietly, as he bent his head down so he could hear her.

"I..." Hermione began in a faint, raspy voice.

Her whole body was trembling violently - still freezing from the cold water.

"I..." she started again.

Draco immediately cast a drying spell on her, and then leaned forward to better hear.

"...I always knew you wanted to kiss me..."

Draco's head instantly shot up as he made eye contact with Hermione.

Though her teeth were still chattering uncontrollably, her eyes were smiling brightly at him.

"Merlin, Hermione! Only you would joke at a time like this," he said with exasperation.

She shrugged, although the gesture was barely noticed - her entire body was still shaking.

"At least...at least we didn't come back empty handed," Hermione trembled, as she unclenched her left fist.

There, lying in her hand, just below the burn mark that was now forming on her wrist, was Rowena Ravenclaw's compass.

Draco's eyes darted back and forth between the compass and Hermione's face.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're bloody brilliant?" he asked with affection.

Hermione managed a weak smile, "It's been known to happen on occasion."

Draco returned the smile and then cast another drying spell on her. After performing the same spell on himself, he groped through the fog, gathered both of their packs, and returned to Hermione's prone form. Pulling his cloak from his pack, he gingerly wrapped it around Hermione's trembling body.

"How we doing?" he asked, with concern.

"Never better," she chattered.

"Hermione..."

But Draco cut himself off - as the sound of footsteps approaching caused him to look up in alarm. Clutching his wand tightly, he bent over Hermione and whispered, "Don't move."

Taking a few steps away from her, Draco crouched behind a boulder and waited - his heart pounding as the footsteps drew nearer.

For the first time since their arrival at the cove, Draco felt gratitude for the fog - it protectively hid himself from whomever it was that was approaching. And as frustrating as it was not being able to see who the perpetrator was, Draco was sure he had the advantage as he listened to the footsteps as they slowly stepped over the crumbling rocks.

At precisely the right moment, he would attack.

But just as Draco was ready to disarm the unwelcome visitor, his wand flew from his hand as a deep voice sounded in the mist.

"_Expelliarmus._"

It was with a startling realization that Draco realized he recognized the voice.

"I know you're here, Draco, " came the suave, confident voice of Lucius Malfoy, "I heard your voice - so don't cower like the gutless wonder that you truly are," he paused, "I have your wand. What will you do? Attack me like a filthy, barbaric muggle?"

Draco's heart was pounding so rapidly against his chest that he felt certain it would break through his ribcage at any moment.

He faced a moment of uncertainty before he stepped out from behind the boulder to face the man he had once called his father.

There was no doubt in Draco's mind, that Lucius would kill Hermione the moment he saw her. But as long as she remained concealed within the fog, she would be safe.

Hermione still had the Horcrux.

And Draco understood with a new certainty that that was all that mattered.

He knew that Hermione was too weak to apparate, but if he could bide some time, distract Lucius, maybe Hermione could get away and get help.

Then, he was certain, she would figure out how to destroy the Horcrux.

And that would be Draco's final sacrifice.

Surely, Lucius would kill him - but if he could save Hermione, and she could get away and destroy the Horcrux; it would all be worth it.

He would finally have his redemption.

And at last everyone would know of his true loyalties - the fact that he would not be around to share in that triumphant was irrelevant.

They would know.

And that was enough.

"What do you want Lucius?" Draco asked, as he stepped from around the boulder that concealed him.

_Keep him away from Hermione._

Lucius was only two arm's lengths in front of Draco, but with the dense fog that encompassed the cove, he appeared as a shadowy silhouette.

"Ah, Draco," said Lucius snidely, "At last. It's been what? Six years? And here I thought after all this time that you were dead."

"What do you want?" Draco demanded as he took a step closer.

Within this new proximity, Draco could make out his father's features more clearly - and was shocked by what he saw. Lucius' face appeared to be demented - twisted and distorted with insanity.

_Or,_ Draco thought with disdain, _Was I too blind to see the madness that had always been there?_

"I find it strange," Lucius began, as he moved towards Draco, making himself finally visible, "...that the Dark Lord would ask me to come to this location - in France, of all places, to keep watch for muggles and wizards that don't know how to mind their own business." He paused, as he took in Draco's appearance for the first time in six years. "And then," he continued, as he circled Draco like a predator closing in on it's prey, "...to my great surprise, I find my estranged son, in muggle clothes in a cove in the middle of the night."

Draco furrowed his brow as Lucius came full circle and faced him once again.

"Can you imagine why I am thus perplexed, Draco?"

"What do you want?" Draco asked again with determination.

Lucius seemed to be ignoring him. He took Draco's own wand, and pressed it under Draco's chin, lifting his face up as though he were examining an animal.

"My, how you've grown, Draco," Lucius said as he continued to scrutinize his appearance, "You can surely understand why I assumed you were dead, " he went on, "...because if you were alive, you would have returned to myself and the other Death Eaters after that pitiful excuse to murder Dumbledore."

His piercing blue eyes held Draco's. "Naturally, I assumed you were dead - if you were alive, that would mean that you were a..." Lucius paused as he challenged Draco to contradict him.

"...traitor."

Draco said nothing, but refused to look away.

He had spent too many years cowering from his father.

It was ironic that here - in the end, would be when he finally defied him.

"You do not deny it?" Lucius asked, intrigued.

When Draco said nothing, Lucius smirked, "You pathetic excuse for a son."

"No, Lucius," Draco said, as he leaned even closer to his father, "You're the one who's pathetic. Threatening to use your own wife as a bargaining chip - murdering and torturing only those who were weaker that you...," Draco scoffed with a smirk, "That sounds pretty pathetic to me."

Draco didn't even have time to blink before a hand roughly smacked across his face.

"You never did learn respect," said Lucius, disgustedly, "Now answer me honestly, Draco. Why are you here?"

Draco ran a hand over his bleeding lip before he looked up with a smirk, "What? You don't believe that I came to meet you here so that we could do that father/son fishing trip we had planned?"

"Insolent boy!" Lucius screamed, as he grabbed Draco's turtleneck and violently yanked him forward. His crazed eyes were only inches away from Draco's face.

"I tried to be reasonable with you," Lucius spat, "But I will except your failure no longer. Better you had died that day with that old fool Dumbledore! Where is he now, Draco? The 'greatest wizard of our time', indeed!"

Lucius' voice was rising with every passing word. The madness within seemed to be leaking out with each breath.

"The Dark Lord has infiltrated the Ministry! Soon, he will declare himself Minister of Magic! No one can stop him now! And where is that pathetic excuse for a wizard, Potter?" He spat, disgustedly, "Did he truly believe that he could defeat the most powerful wizard in the world? Ha!"

Lucius' wand made a sudden movement and was now pressing against Draco's throat, "Goodbye, Draco," Lucius whispered maliciously into Draco's ear, "This is something I should have done long ago."

And with that, he took a step back, eyed Draco darkly, and said, "_Avada - _"

_"EXPELLIARMUS!"_ shouted Hermione - emerging from the dense fog like a fallen angel.

Both Lucius' and Draco's wands flew from the elder man's hands and were launched into the air - allowing Hermione to catch them easily.

Shaky on her feet, Hermione slowly approached Lucius - three wands trained on his chest.

She was still pale, and trembling - whether from the frigid water, or fear - Draco was not sure.

Lucius' eyes widened with surprise, "Well, if it isn't the mudblood, Granger! Why, it's been much too long!" he exclaimed in a scoff tone as he looked back and forth between Hermione and Draco, "So," he paused, "My son is in leave with a mudblood, is he?"

"Shut up!" Draco shouted as he roughly grabbed his father's robes, "Do NOT speak that word in my presence!"

Lucius' eyes narrowed, "Blood traitor," he spat in Draco's face.

And then his attention returned to Hermione.

"But it has been too long, hasn't it?" he questioned mockingly, as he struggled to see around Draco's shoulder. "Let's see...Oh, yes! I remember...I do believe the last time that I saw you was in that abandoned museum on the outskirts of London..." Lucius trailed off as his eyes shot like daggers into Hermione.

Hermione froze.

She nearly dropped all three wands.

"I know you remember," said Lucius, darkly.

Draco appeared momentarily confused until the wretched realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

Hermione looked as though someone hit her square in the gut - and she nearly doubled over.

_Ron._

"It was supposed to be you," Lucius continued, "Do you remember? My orders were to kill you - mudblood. For the Dark Lord himself to acknowledge you from the rest - well, that's quite the honor," he whispered, as he struggled against Draco. "You see, he knew just how filthy your blood was."

Tears were freely spilling down Hermione's cheeks as she tried to comprehend what was happening.

"Weasley, wasn't it? Well, he was a pureblood - a blood traitor, but a pureblood, nonetheless. How does it make you feel? Knowing that he should be alive, and you dead?"

"Shut the hell up!" Draco screamed, as he roughly threw his father back against a large rock, "Don't you speak another word to her!"

But Lucius appeared more demented than ever and fought roughly against Draco, "I killed him! I did it! What will you do now, mudblood? What will - "

_"STUPEFY!!"_

The force of the spell was unlike anything Draco had ever seen.

The combined power of Hermione's already prodigious skill - along with two additional wands resulted in a display of light, color, and power that was unsurpassed.

Lucius was thrown violently from Draco's grasp and landed roughly into the cove.

The splash of water echoed throughout the entire inlet as he surfaced - sputtering for breath.

Hermione still had all three wands trained on him as he looked up with contempt.

"Why, you filthy little - "

But Lucius' words were cut off as he let out a dreadful scream.

His head bobbed as he was pulled slightly under the surface.

Kicking and screaming frantically, Lucius' fearful eyes sought both Hermione and Draco.

"HELP! Help me! It's burning...my leg! HELP ME!" he screamed as he momentarily submerged before he fought his way back to the surface.

But Hermione's feet were rooted to the spot.

After all this time, she knew who Ron's killer was.

And as much as she willed her arm upwards to levitate the man out of the water; her body refused to respond.

She stared without feeling as she watched the man struggle.

Beside her, Draco looked on as his father was dragged beneath the surface.

With a final effort of defiance against her body - an extreme effort unlike anything she had ever known, Hermione took a small step forward and raised her wand.

"No," whispered Draco, as he gently lowered her arm.

Hermione looked at Draco, slightly perplexed.

"No."

And Draco was looking her over with such admiration and affection that she felt slightly flushed.

"Justice has been satisfied," he said slowly, turning his head to the water. It rippled furiously from where the skeleton had descended, carrying his father to the watery grave that awaited him.

"He won't be able to hurt anyone ever again."

Though her entire body ached, her wrist burned, and she was shivering violently from head to toe as she clutched what was certainly a cracked rib from when Draco had revived her; Hermione had never felt more at peace in her life than at this moment. The closure that she had long been seeking since Ron's death seemed to encompass her body like a warm blanket.

It was finally over.

And Draco - who had just watched his own father die right before his eyes, wrapped his arms carefully around her.

"Let's go home," he whispered into her hair.

Too exhausted to do anything else, Hermione nodded, and soon she felt the familiar compression of apparation as Draco turned on the spot, and she was whisked away into nothingness.

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At Muron Castle, Draco gently laid Hermione down on her favorite sofa by the fireplace.

"How are you?" he asked, gently.

Hermione's sorrel eyes sought his own, "How are _you_?"

Draco gave her a weak smile as he sat next to her prone form on the sofa.

"I'm fine. He...he deserved every bit of what happened," Draco whispered, as he thought of his father. "He murdered hundreds of muggles and muggle-borns - and he killed...Ron."

Hermione looked at him with such compassion and tenderness that Draco felt as though his heart would explode.

"I'm sorry," he finished, as he looked at his hands.

"Hey," said Hermione, wincing, as she propped herself up so they were nearly eye-level. "His actions had nothing to do with you. I would never, _ever_ blame you for Ron's death."

Draco nodded, "I know...It's just that...I'm...ashamed that it was him."

Hermione gave a weak smile, gently placed her right arm around Draco's neck, and pulled him forward to give him a chaste kiss on his cheek, "That's what separates you from him."

Draco looked mildly startled as he rubbed the spot on his cheek where Hermione's lips had been mere seconds before - as if by physically touching the spot, he could reaffirm that she had actually kissed him.

"Here," said Draco, as he lowered Hermione back onto the sofa, "Lay down. I need to heal that rib - and your wrist is burned."

"So is your hand and neck," Hermione interjected.

Draco nodded, "I'll take care of it."

A moment later, Draco returned with a jar of salve and his wand. He healed Hermione's rib and gingerly rubbed the salve on her wrist.

"Here," Hermione said, as she dipped her fingers into the jar of salve, "Let me get your palm."

Draco nodded wordlessly as Hermione tenderly massaged his burned hand. Her face was concentrating deeply and she was so focused on the task that Draco found he could not look away.

"Better?" she asked, as she looked up at him.

He stared into her eyes for several seconds before he could find his voice.

"Yeah - thanks."

"Let me get your neck."

Draco obliged by tilting his head slightly upwards - allowing Hermione access to his neck. Her nimble fingers were gentle and soft as she applied the ointment. Their faces were in such close proximity to one another that Draco took advantage of the moment to study Hermione's face.

If he looked closely - very closely, he could see small specks of gold in her chestnut irises.

_Stunning. _

"Where did you put the compass?" Hermione asked, as she finished with the salve and lowered herself back onto the couch.

"Right here," gestured Draco, as he shook his rucksack.

Hermione nodded and closed her eyes.

She was mildly embarrassed that she felt tears welling up in the corners.

Physically, she was drained - but emotionally, she could barely think. The fact that Ron's murderer was now dead was the most overwhelming feeling - it encompassed every inch of her body.

"Hey," said Draco, gently - causing Hermione to open her eyes, "You okay?"

She nodded, "Yeah...it's just...it's a lot to process in one day."

"I understand," said Draco, as he stood, "Rest. You've been through a lot today - you saved my life, you know."

Hermione smiled, "And you saved mine - so I guess that makes us even."

Draco smiled warmly as he turned from the fire, "Goodnight," he said, and then slowly made to walk through the atrium.

After a few footsteps, Hermione called out to him, "Wait..."

Draco stopped mid-stride and turned his head slightly in Hermione's direction.

"Will..." she started, but then paused - unsure just how to finish.

"Will you stay?"

A joy so exquisite that was unlike any other spread through the entire expanse of Draco's body. His father - his own flesh and blood - had murdered someone that was very dear to her, and she still excepted him. Not only excepted him - but - wanted to be _near_ him.

_Simply incredible._

He was at her side in two quick steps.

"Of course."

And there was an indescribable look in her eyes.

A look that Draco never thought he would see anyone direct towards him.

But it was there.

He could not deny it.

Slowly - methodically, he lowered himself to the couch as Hermione maneuvered her body so her back was pressed against the sofa's cushion - her head pillowed by the armrest.

Her eyes never left his as he turned his body towards her.

And timidly - hesitantly, she moved her body closer to him.

Draco reached down and pulled his discarded traveling cloak from the floor and threw it over Hermione. It radiated with the heat from the fireplace.

She inched closer until she finally buried her head in his chest - reveling in his body heat.

Cautiously, Draco wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. Hermione responded by nestling herself even nearer and sighing deeply.

And for several moments, Draco sat in the silent absurdity of it all. Holding on to the woman that he thought he had once despised - having her now be the one person he cared about more than anything.

It was an ironic - to say the least.

But then Hermione's breathing became deeper and more evenly spaced. When he was quite certain that she was asleep, he gingerly brushed her thick, chestnut hair away from her face and gently kissed her forehead.

For the first time in his life - here in the moment; Draco truly felt at home.

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	14. Chapter 14

Hermione awoke the next morning feeling groggy and disoriented.

_Was it all just a dream?_

When she placed her arms down at her sides and hoisted herself into a sitting position; her muscles protested.

_Definitely not a dream._

And then the events of the previous day came flooding back in violent succession.

_The compass._

_The skeleton._

_Couldn't breath..._

_Draco._

_Lucius...being pulled beneath the surface._

Suppressing a groan, Hermione rubbed her eyes and lowered herself back on the sofa.

It was the moment her head hit the armrest that she remembered what had happened right before she fell asleep.

Draco had stayed with her.

She - Hermione Granger, had asked him - Draco Malfoy, to stay the night with her.

Granted, that was all that happened - he _stayed_ with her. But something about the whole encounter seemed infinitely more intimate than even her most passionate snogs with Ron.

Hermione's eyes became fully focused as she recalled those moments just before her eyes had closed the previous night.

_Draco lowering himself on the couch._

_Their eye contact - never wavering._

_The strength and warmth of his arms as they wrapped securely around her._

And Hermione realized that that was the first time since before Ron - perhaps even since she was a child - small, innocent, and completely unaware of a building war, that she had truly felt safe.

In that moment of realization, she heard Draco entering from the kitchen.

"Good morning," he said brightly as he sat a plate of waffles down on her lap. "How are you feeling?"

Hermione gazed down at the burnt waffles and looked up with a smile, "Fine, thanks. Just a little stiff. I'll be right as rain before you know it."

Draco returned the smile, "Good. Sorry about those," he gestured toward the waffles, "I'm complete rubbish when it comes to cooking."

Hermione attempted to stab at the blackened anomaly with her fork as she suppressed a chuckle. "I'm surprised. Cooking isn't all that different from potions...and really, I could deny it until I was blue in the face - but you really are rather capable at that."

Draco raised his eyebrows and laughed softly, "Well, I'm sure it about killed you to admit it."

Hermione grinned, "Very nearly."

Draco was just about to comment when there was a loud banging on the massive front doors to Muron Castle. Draco shot instantly to his feet, pulling out his wand and running to the entrance while Hermione simultaneously stumbled off the couch, looked frantically around for her wand, but when she couldn't see anything of the sort, ran quickly through the atrium after Draco.

Just as she rounded the corner, she saw the great doors implode.

"Get back!" Draco screamed at her as he covered his head.

Debris, wood, and dust filled the air as Hermione coughed into her arm. Squinting, she tried to see through the dust.

_"Lumos!"_ she commanded as she stretched her hand forward.

A bright light emanated from her palm and she immediately saw Draco - crouching with his arms covering his head.

"Draco!" Hermione screamed as she sprinted forward to grab him.

Squinting and coughing, she finally grabbed the back of his robe to pull him up when she noticed a third figure in the entryway with them.

Draco, upon seeing the figure, stood completely in front of Hermione and shouted, "Show yourself! Hands where I can see them!"

But the figure did not oblige.

Instead of raising his arms in the air, he collapsed in a heap on the former castle doors.

Still keeping one arm firmly in front of Hermione as though she were a passenger in a car and he was pounding the break rather fiercely, Draco slowly stepped through the dust until he hovered over the unmoving figure.

Just behind him, Hermione gasped.

"Oh...my..."

And when Draco returned to the fallen figure, he saw, for the first time, a curtain of black hair obscuring the figure's face.

Instantly Hermione was on her knees.

The man was Severus Snape.

"Snape?" Hermione called as she gently lifted Snape's head off the ground and into her lap.

Not a moment later, Draco was by her side searching frantically over Snape's still body for any signs of physical harm.

"Snape?" Draco shouted as he fumbled through the endless folds of robes. "Severus? Answer me if you can hear me!"

"Oh...Draco..." Hermione gasped as she uncovered Snape's left arm.

Blood was everywhere.

"What could have happened?" she asked, shakily, "The Order? Or..."

"No," said Draco as he stooped to pick up his former potion's master, "Look," he nodded in the direction of Snape's left arm, "The Dark Mark has all but been cut out - this is definitely the work of the Dark Lord."

As Draco rose with Snape in his arms, Hermione's hand flew over her mouth, "But that would mean..." she trailed off as she ran after Draco through the archway, "Voldemort knows that someone was at the cove last night."

Draco paused in mid stride as his eyes found hers.

"He knows we have the Horcrux."

Draco's eyes widened as he regarded Hermione with fear, "We can't think about that right now. First, I have to look after Snape. Quickly! Go down to the dungeon and bring a blood replenishing potion, a calming draught, Essence of Dittany, and anything else that you think could be useful."

Hermione nodded as she sprinted toward the spiral stairs that descended into the bowels of the castle. Flying down the stairs two at a time, she nearly tripped over her own feet when she finally landed on level ground. Scrambling to the opposite side of the dark room, Hermione cursed loudly to herself that she had not found her wand.

_"Accio Hermione's wand!"_ she yelled as she stretched her hand in the direction of the stairs.

Not three seconds later, her wand came soaring down the stairwell and into Hermione's waiting hand.

_"Lumos!"_

Hermione's normally deft fingertips traced shakily over the various bottles and vials on each shelf. Grabbing every item Draco requested, Hermione also snatched a small bottle of Essence of Murtlap and anything else that was in the near vicinity that she could still manage to carry. Moving as quickly as she could with her new load, Hermione scaled the spiral stairs, crossed the length of the atrium, and returned to the very couch she had awoken on that morning to find Draco and Snape.

Snape was laying on the couch, his shirt removed by Draco, breathing heavily.

"Here," Hermione said as she discarded the bottles and flasks on the floor next to Draco.

At the sound of her voice, Snape's eyes fluttered open as he winced in pain.

His chest was completely covered in blood, but where Hermione's concern was - and were the majority of the bleeding was coming from was his left arm, in the place where the Dark Mark normally resided.

"Ah, Miss Granger," he said taking in a large breath, "How reassuring."

_Damn him._

Only he could be this close to death and still make smart ass remarks.

But then again, hadn't she made one to Draco only the previous night?

"Sir," Hermione began as she knelt next to Draco, "What happened? I need to know before we can treat you with anything."

Auror training, as Hermione was now completely grateful for, required a prolonged session of shadowing healers and learning various healing techniques. In the Auror's line of work, strange injuries and curses were commonplace, and each Auror was expected to ascertain and treat a wide variety of injuries.

Snape winced as he struggled to lift his left arm, "A version of Sectumsempra, I'm afraid. Much more intense than anything I ever created..." he hissed with pain as he lowered his arm back to the couch, "The Dark Mark can never be removed...due to the dark properties of that particular spell...but they certainly tried to work it out..."

Hermione nodded as she observed Snape's bloodied arm. A deep gash ran along the length of the inner forearm. Gently, she wrapped her fingers just high of where the gash began. It only took a second before they too, were stained crimson. "Sir, I'm going to use a healing spell first..." she trailed off as she reluctantly met his eyes, "But I've been told...that it is...painful..."

Snape rolled his eyes as he scowled at Hermione, "I'm familiar with the spell. Just get on with it," he hissed, "Or would you rather I sit and bleed to death."

_Well, at least his personality is in tact._

Raising her wand above the gash, Hermione sought Draco's eyes and nodded at him. Understanding the implications behind the gesture, Draco steadied himself on his knees as he firmly grasped Snape's shoulders, limiting his range of motion to thrash out.

Snape's wary eyes met hers before they closed tightly.

"Do it."

Taking a deep breath, Hermione made a complicated wand movement over Snape's arm as she muttered quietly to herself. The effect was instantaneous. Snape immediately hissed and clenched in pain as the gash began to sew itself back together over the Dark Mark. He struggled and writhed against Draco's grip as Hermione fought to keep his arm in place while she continued with the incantation.

Finally, the skin sewed itself shut and Snape momentarily relaxed.

"Severus, are you okay?" Draco asked as he slowly relinquished his grip on the elder man's shoulders.

Snape's eyes were still closed and he appeared to be composing himself. After a moment, he nodded.

"Yes. I'm fine."

Slowly, his eyes opened and found Hermione.

"Thank you."

Hermione nodded, "Of course. But your chest...please, let me take a look at the rest of you..."

Snape nodded his consent as he turned toward Draco while Hermione set to work on the abrasions on his chest.

"Severus, what happened?" Draco asked.

Snape was silent for a moment before he began, "The Dark Lord found out the Horcrux was gone," he said simply.

"When Lucius did not return from France, the Dark Lord himself went to the cove and discovered Lucius' body hovering several meters below the surface attached to a skeleton."

He paused as he looked to Hermione, who had momentarily stopped healing his wounds.

"You can imagine his surprise, of course. He was not aware anyone else knew of their existence. In his panic, he used the connection with Potter..." Snape trailed off as he flinched slightly, "He knows the other Horcruxes are destroyed."

Draco looked between Snape and Hermione before he interjected, "But if he looked into Potter's mind then - "

"Yes," Snape interrupted, "He knows that it wasn't Potter who found the last Horcrux."

And then his eyes rested on Hermione.

"I did not know of the location of the Horcrux, nor that one had to use wandless magic to retrieve it. But as all this was unfolding, the Dark Lord came to the conclusion that it was you that retrieved it," he said as he nodded at Hermione.

Hermione regarded him silently before Draco broke her reverie.

"It doesn't matter if he invaded Potter's mind - he still doesn't know where she is," he said defensively.

"No, he doesn't," agreed Snape, "But he does know one of a few places where she _will_ be."

An understanding dawned on Draco as he looked fiercely at Hermione.

"The Goblet of Fire...the Basalisk fangs..." he trailed off, "He expects you to go the Ministry or to Hogwarts to get the objects to destroy the Horcrux," he concluded with a dawning horror.

Snape nodded weakly, "Yes. He's already sent Death Eaters to both locations...I tried my best to stop them..." he trailed off as he shut his eyes tightly, "I'm afraid my position was compromised in my attempt to shield you, Miss Granger. They know of my true allegiance...the Dark Lord...as you can see...," he winced, "...was quite displeased."

That was the understatement of the year.

Hermione looked down at Snape with fear in her eyes.

She took in a shaky breath, "This..." she began, "This is it, then. It'll be all but open rebellion. With Voldemort stationing Death Eaters at the Ministry and Hogwarts..."

"Yes," Snape confirmed, "It is his attempt to gain absolute power. Although...," he continued as he propped himself into a sitting position, "His decisions are rather rash. It is the fear of losing his Horcruxes that is guiding his actions. He will go to any lengths to protect Nagini and to stop you from destroying the Horcrux you found in the cove."

Hermione nodded as she regarded Draco silently.

"I'm afraid," Snape began quietly as he looked at Hermione, "that you are of just as much interest to the Dark Lord now as Potter is - if not more so. Even he acknowledges your intelligence and power with your ability to use wandless magic. I had hoped...that that information would not have reached him."

Draco abruptly stood on the spot and angrily brandished his wand, "I'll kill him before he lays a finger on her," he said, darkly.

And there was such fury and power in his voice - something like that of a wrathful king, that for one slight moment; Hermione believed him.

"Is there anyway...," Hermione began hesitantly as she looked at Snape, "That you could...perform the killing curse on the compass?"

Snape regarded her silently before he spoke, "I do not think so."

Immediately, Hermione's features sank with despair.

"My wand," he continued, "...has been used to..." he hesitated slightly, "...kill many a muggle. Though I myself no longer desire to indulge in those dark practices, the wand does. Unfortunately, I have no idea as to where my wand is at the present moment. The Dark Lord, of course, immediately confiscated it...and I doubt I would be able to perform the curse without a wand that has completed such an Unforgivable in the past."

Hermione's heart was pounding in her chest. But it was Draco, who spoke.

"Could you try?"

Draco extended his proffered wand to Snape.

Snape nodded, "I can try, but I do not think your wand combined with my weakened state will attribute to much."

Hermione moved to scramble through Draco's pack that was discarded nearby. It was in the same spot as the previous night.

_Last night._

It seemed like an eternity ago, but here she was - still wearing the muggle tank top that she had worn to the cove, digging through a pack that was in the same spot - as everything that had happened to her within the last forty-eight hours all slammed together in one terrifying revelation.

_Voldemort is after me._

Shaking her head to clear herself from that thought, Hermione emerged from Draco's pack with Rowena Ravenclaw's compass. She gingerly set it down on the floor in front of Snape.

Snape eyed the object momentarily before propping himself up to his full height, stretching Draco's wand before him, and commanding in a louder voice than Hermione thought he was capable,_ "Avada Kedavra!"_

A brilliant green light shot from Draco's wand and ricocheted off the compass, causing Draco and Hermione to immediately drop to the floor. As Hermione looked up from her prone position, she saw the compass - sitting in the same place; perfectly in tact.

"Dammit!" Draco cursed as he stood and punched the nearby stone wall.

Hermione rubbed her brow with the back of her hand, "Well, I guess we've ruled that out," she said, exasperatedly.

"Let me try," Draco said with determination as he took his wand from Snape.

Steadying himself, Draco stood in position to curse the object.

"Wait, Draco - " Hermione began.

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

A green light shot from the wand, ricocheting off the compass, and once more - Hermione dropped to the floor.

"Bloody hell!" screamed Hermione from her position on the floor, "What are you trying to do? Kill someone? We've already established that it's not going to work!"

Draco looked at her apologetically as he nervously fingered his wand, "Sorry," he muttered, "I just wanted to make sure."

Hermione sighed deeply as she picked herself up from off the floor. "It looks as though we'll either need to get into the Ministry or Hogwarts - although I'd say we'd fare better with - "

"_We?_" Draco asked as he interrupted Hermione, "_You're_ not going anywhere. Did you not just hear Snape? The Dark Lord is after you! There's no way in hell I'm letting you go near either one of those places!" He said as he came around the sofa and gently grabbed Hermione's upper arms, as if his action alone would keep her firmly rooted to the spot.

"Draco," Snape said from his prone position on the couch, "Hermione is the one that has to do it."

"What!?" Draco demanded as he spun around, "Are you insane? He'll kill her the first chance he gets!"

Hermione was not nearly as surprised by Snape's revelation of her breaking into the Ministry or Hogwarts as she was by his use of her given name.

"I'll do it," she said before Snape and Draco could argue any further.

"No," Draco said seriously as his eyes pleaded with hers, "I can't let you - he's after you specifically."

"Draco," Snape interrupted quietly, "It has to be Hermione. You and I are being hunted on both sides. There is precious little time that we can waste. We must act now and destroy the Horcrux so that the Order can retaliate and prepare for battle. I can't imagine anyone being too pleased if you or I showed up at Hogwarts or the Ministry. Hermione must go. No one will question her allegiance. And..." he added, as he met Hermione's eyes, "I know that she is capable of performing this task."

Hermione silently beamed at her former professor.

_Finally, a compliment._

_Never mind the fact that I could be killed - it was a compliment, and I'll take it from the man anyway I can get it._

Draco looked as though he were going to be sick.

"But Polyjuice Potion..."

"You know very well that Hogwarts and Ministry have installed the "Anti Theft Charms" that were previously used at Gringotts. The Polyjuice Potion would dematerialize the moment you walked through the door," Snape interrupted, calmly.

Draco appeared to be fighting some sort of inner battle. He paced back and forth in front of the fireplace as his hands clutched his hair violently.

"But...he'll kill her," he said quietly - helplessly.

Snape looked up from the sofa, "I think not."

"The Dark Lord," Snape continued, "...Is as curious about Hermione's abilities as the rest of the wizarding world would be if they knew she possessed them. And...as much as I don't want to admit it...Hermione is a powerful bargaining tool that could be used to manipulate Potter - the Dark Lord, I am certain, would keep her alive."

"But at what cost?!" Draco demanded as he stormed in front of Snape, "Who knows what he would do - "

"HEY!" Hermione shouted loudly - causing both Draco and Snape to look up.

"Would you stop talking about me as if I'm not sitting right here in the room?!"

Slowly, she walked from the fireplace and stood in front of Draco.

His eyes showed a desperation and loss that were nearly tangible.

_Could a person's eyes betray so much?_

It was as if for one fleeting moment, the world had slowed down and it was just she and Draco - staring into one another's eyes as the flames from the fire licked up near their feet.

"If this is what needs to be done to destroy Voldemort," Hermione said quietly as her eyes locked on Draco's, "I'll do it."

"But - " Draco interrupted.

"No, Draco. There is no 'but'," Hermione said as she took Draco's hand. Looking down at their entwined fingers she continued, "We are _so_ close to ending this. This is the last piece to be completed before the Order can move into action."

Draco put his other hand on top of Hermione's and held it firmly.

"If anything happened to you - "

"Draco," Hermione interrupted, sounding slightly exasperated, "Have a little faith in me, would you? I can do this. Please...trust me."

Draco looked at her steadily for a long moment before he slowly nodded his consent.

Hermione smiled softly in return as she tightened the grip on their hands.

"Well," Snape said from the couch, "Now that we have that out of the way..." he trailed off, clearly irritated at the intimate exchange.

"Sir," Hermione began as she turned to her former professor, "I believe Hogwarts is our best shot."

Snape raised an inquisitive brow, "Is that so?" he questioned, obviously intrigued with her suggestion, "Please - do enlighten me."

Hermione swallowed as she finally released her hold on Draco's hand, "Well... it's just that I'm infinitely more familiar with the blueprints of Hogwarts than I am at the Ministry. Plus, Professor McGonagall is there - she won't ask any questions or give me any grief, " Hermione continued as she began to count off her list of reasons on her fingers.

"I know exactly where the Chamber of Secrets is located in order to get to the basalisk fangs - whereas I don't have a clue as to where they keep the Goblet of Fire within the Ministry...I just think it is the best course of action," she concluded as she looked to Snape.

"And pray tell,_ Hermione_," Snape began as he emphasized her name, "Along with your other apparently 'limitless' abilities, am I to understand that speaking Parseltongue is among them?"

Draco looked to Hermione in question.

"Well, actually...I do know how to open the Chamber of Secrets."

At Snape's doubtful expression, Hermione went on, "When Harry destroyed the first Horcrux - the locket, he had to speak in Parseltongue to get it to open. I remember how Harry said the words...or rather hissed them...I'm confident that is all I would need to open the Chamber."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes, "An answer for everything - as always, Miss Granger."

Hermione smiled slightly as she looked down at Snape.

"What do you think, sir?" she asked.

"I think..." Snape began slowly, "...that it is probably our best chance. The Ministry itself would be a complicated disaster. I do not know where the Goblet of Fire lies within the atrium, and I'm quite certain that only designated ministry officials would be able to gain access to it. Furthermore, the Ministry has already been infiltrated with Death Eaters to insure the Dark Lord's influence...I agree that Hogwarts is a better option."

Hermione smiled at Snape's approval, but he continued, "That is not to say that it is the safer option, however. I have no doubt that Death Eaters are scouring the Forbidden Forest as we speak...you will need to use caution, Hermione."

Hermione nodded, as she looked up at Draco, "Of course, sir."

Draco, who had been fairly quiet up to that point, finally spoke, "Severus, you need to rest. I'll help Hermione get ready with everything that she might need."

Snape nodded and then reached for Hermione's hand, "You can do this," he said softly as he gently pulled her down to his eye level, "...of that I have no doubt."

Hermione smiled warmly, "Thank you, sir," and she turned to leave before a thought stuck her, "Sir? If Voldemort took your wand...how did you break down the castle doors?"

It was the first real smile that Hermione had even seen on the lips of Severus Snape.

"Come now, Miss Granger, a wizard can't give away all his secrets," he replied mysteriously.

Hermione looked at Snape, slightly flabbergasted.

_Did Snape just joke with me?_

_Merlin, I really am going to die._

Draco loudly cleared his throat causing Hermione to look up. He gave her a knowing look as Hermione left Snape's side by the couch and followed him through the archway to the main atrium.

At the foot of the east stair case, Draco paused in front of her and hung his head. Slowly, he turned toward her - his face stricken with grief.

"Hermione - "

Hermione couldn't take it any longer. In one shift motion, she closed the distance between them, stood on her tip toes, and threw her arms around his neck. Draco responded immediately by firmly tightening his arms around her waist. They stood there below the staircase, desperately embracing and clinging onto one another for several prolonged moments.

"Hey," Hermione said, as she lowered herself to the ground, breaking away slightly so that she could look Draco in the eye, "It'll be okay. I'm going to be fine - I mean, how many reckless adventures have I embarked on already in my life? And most of them before I was seventeen!" She said as she made a miserable attempt to laugh.

Draco did not look encouraged, "Yeah, but you always had Potter there...or Ron..."

Hermione smiled slightly, "Yes, and usually it was _me_ that was saving _their_ hides. It will be infinitely easier with just myself to look after," she assured him as she brushed one of his stray bangs back to it's rightful place.

Draco took her hands in his own as he looked down at them - unable to meet her gaze.

"Hermione..." he began quietly, as he gently stroked her hand with his thumb, "It's just that..."

And then he did meet her gaze.

"I care about you. If anything happened to you...I don't think I'd be able to forgive myself. I...I can't lose you now that I have just found you."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, "Just found me?"

Draco nodded, "We've known each other since we were what? Eleven? But we never really and truly _knew_ each other. That, and I was a different person back then. I've only just begun to see the person that you really are. Before that, all I knew was that you were a know-it-all, bushy haired muggle-born."

Despite herself, Hermione laughed.

"And your opinion has changed, then, I take it?" She asked, playfully.

Draco gave a small smile, "Somewhat, yes. Your hair isn't as bushy as it once was."

Hermione looked down at their linked hands and gripped them tighter, "Draco, whether or not I want to do this is irrelevant. I'm the only one here who can. What kind of Gryffindor would I be if I walked away now?"

Draco met her eyes, "A Slytherin."

Hermione laughed loudly as she saw his eyes twinkle. And then she grew somber again.

"Draco, trust me, I don't want anything to happen to me either...I certainly don't leap at the thought of danger when something like this comes up. It's just that...in these past few months, I have learned and grown in more ways than I could have ever imagined. And whatever we have - " she gestured between herself and him, "...between us...I don't really know what it is - or certainly how to explain it. But I do know that...more than anything...I want to find out what it is."

Draco looked at her quizzically, "So you don't deny that there is _something_ between us?"

"Of course there is _something_, Draco," she replied, exasperatedly, "And I plan on getting those basilisk fangs, stabbing that compass, and coming back here in one piece to find out whatever that something is."

Draco smiled genuinely at Hermione as he pulled her gently forward, "I was worried you were in denial."

Hermione chuckled softly, "Never."

And suddenly, all Hermione could focus on were Draco's lips. Thin - but so soft in appearance. Her eyes flicked back and forth between his mouth and eyes. Slowly, she felt herself unknowingly moving forward. Raising herself on her tip toes once more, she placed her right hand on Draco's neck, gently pulling his head down to hers. His eyes appeared momentarily startled, but after a faint flicker, there was a hunger and desire in them that was nearly palpable.

Just as Hermione's lips were a whisper's breath away from Draco's, Harry's stag Patronus came bursting through the atrium - bright and brilliant, as Hermione and Draco jumped apart - startled.

"Hermione!" Harry's frightened voice came from the stag, "It's happened...Voldemort used the connect between us to see into my mind...he knows that we know about the Horcruxes! Death Eaters are being stationed all over the Ministry - it's an open attack! Please...I need to know you're okay...the cove...do I need to go? The Order is ready to retaliate and they aren't taking Lupin's and my restraint well in the slightest. I need to know what to do."

And then, the great stag materialized into a vaporous mist and vanished.

Hermione and Draco stared blankly where Harry's Patronus had just been.

Hermione's heart was pounding - although she was quite certain that it wasn't do to the presence of Harry's stag, but rather due to her near intimate encounter with Draco, only moments before.

Snape, too, stood in the atrium - leaning precariously against a stone wall, having heard the commotion.

Without saying a word to either of them, Hermione skillfully brandished her wand, produced her otter Patronus and spoke with authority, "Harry. There's no need to go to the cove. There is only one thing left that needs to be taken care of. I'll send word as soon as it's safe for the Order to set up their defenses and go on a counter attack. Please don't do anything until then - it would be a fruitless attempt."

She paused as she looked up at Draco and then to Snape, "Be careful, Harry. I'll join you as soon as I can."

And with a deft flick of her wand, the otter playfully encircled her once before soaring quickly out of the castle.

Snape nodded at Hermione before he turned to head back to the couch, "There isn't much time."

Without looking at Draco, Hermione scaled the stairs that led to her quarters. Once inside her room, she immediately dressed in her emerald green robe and threw her black cloak around her shoulders. Fastening the clasp with shaking hands, she summoned her pack, threw a few miscellaneous items in it, and then quickly shrunk it to fit in the pocket of her robe.

As she turned to leave the room and rejoin Draco, she caught her refection in the mirror above the dresser. The woman staring back at Hermione appeared cool, composed, confident - the very epitome of what an Auror was supposed to be. On the inside, however, Hermione's heart was pounding rapidly, her breaths seemed erratic and deep, and by accounts - she was frightened.

_I can do this._

And without a second glance, Hermione strode from her room with her cloak flowing gracefully behind her.

When she returned to the main atrium and to the room where Snape sat quietly on the sofa, Draco was nowhere to be seen.

Stooping slowly, Hermione bent to the floor to pick up Ravenclaw's compass and made to put it into her shrunken pack.

"What are you doing with that?" Snape's silky voice asked from the couch.

Hermione looked up from the floor as she stuffed the compass into her robes, "Just in case..."

"Just in case what?" He demanded with authority.

Hermione swallowed as she stood, "Just in case...something happens...and I have to get destroy it while I'm there..."

Snape regarded Hermione in silence for several moments before speaking, "It's a good thing Draco isn't here to hear you speak in that manner."

"What manner?" Hermione demanded, suddenly angry, "I would be stupid to not prepare for the worst case scenario! If something happened - and I didn't have the actual object with me to destroy - it would be all for naught! The Order would go into a massive battle that they would not be able to win!"

A small smile played on Snape's lips before he spoke, "I'm not disagreeing with you, Hermione, I'm just glad Draco didn't hear it."

Hermione raised her eyebrow in confusion, "Why?"

Snape rolled his eyes, "Oh, don't play stupid, Hermione. It's the one thing that you are certainly not good at."

Hermione regarded him momentarily before nodding. And then, she turned on the spot and walked out to the main atrium.

From behind her - quietly, she heard a soft, "Good luck."

As Hermione stood in front of the massive doors - which Draco had obviously repaired, she hesitated.

_Where was Draco?_

_Was he not going to come to say goodbye?_

_Did he not even care?_

_Here, when I am about to embark on perhaps the most dangerous mission of my life?_

Sighing loudly, Hermione waved her wand before the doors. Slowly, they creaked open to reveal dark clouds, wind, and very nearly - a torrential rainstorm.

Walking slowly through the entryway, she pulled her hood over her head and stepped into the storm.

_It's probably better this way._

And she made her way slowly towards the apparation point by the large black boulder, oblivious to the rain that was pounding fiercely upon her.

She was nearly soaked when she heard a frantic call from behind her.

"Hermione!!"

"Wait!"

"Hermione!!"

Hermione turned around to see the figure of Draco Malfoy running frantically towards her.

Her brow furrowed as he drew nearer, nearly tripping over an obscured rock.

"Draco - " Hermione began as soon as he was within earshot.

But Draco kept running. He ran until he literally collided with Hermione - wrapping his arms around her as his lips came crashing down upon her own.

Genuinely shocked, Hermione's eyes widened before she threw her arms around his neck as he lifted her off the ground - deepening the kiss. The kiss was demanding, desperate, pleading, but above all things - it was sincere. After what could have very well been several minutes, hours, or days, Draco lowered Hermione to the ground and broke slowly apart. He was completely soaked - his blond hair plastered to his head as it shed drops of water onto his shoulders. Catching his breath, his eyes bore into Hermione's for several moments as the lightening flashed and lit up their sorrel depths.

"You're coming back. And I'll be waiting."

Hermione, who was still slightly spinning from Draco's passionate kiss, looked him in the eye as she put her hand on his cheek. And suddenly, the pain of Ron was lifted completely off her shoulders and she felt free in a way that she never could have never imagined. All she could see was the man before her. Her past was irrelevant - her sufferings - all but forgotten. The only thing Hermione saw was her future, and all she could feel were Draco's lips on her own. And that was all the mattered.

"I will be back," Hermione said with conviction, as she pulled Draco's head down to her own, and then whispered as her full lips brushed against his, "I promise."

And she was in his arms again, kissing him passionately as the rain pounded from above. After several moments, Draco finally released her.

Giving him a significant look, Hermione turned and walked to the nearby boulder. Without a second glance, Hermione turned on the spot and disappeared into nothingness.

The thunder crackled loudly, and Draco stood unmoving in the rain as the storm raged around him. As the rain stung his face without mercy, a silent tear slid down his cheek.

_A/N: Finally, A kiss - I know! You should all be pretty happy with that one - I've been dragging it out forever! PLEASE REVIEW!!_


	15. Chapter 15

_To know what is right and not to do it is the worst cowardice._

-Confucius

* * *

Silence. 

Silence was the first thing Hermione noticed the moment she apparated to Hogsmede and emerged from a run-down alleyway behind the Hog's Head. Normally a blustering and busy village full of eager children peering into the frosty windows of Honeydukes and laughing couples and friends sauntering into the Three Broomsticks; the stillness of the cool mid morning air in Hogsmede startled her.

Breathing deeply after her passionate impromptu kiss in the rain with Draco, Hermione suddenly noticed that it was _too_ cold. Granted, it was well into the winter season and snow was adorning the sides of the narrow alleyway - along with the obvious fact that she was still reasonably wet from the tumultuous storm back at Muron Castle; Hermione couldn't help but feel the strange coldness of the bitter air seep into her very bones.

_Dementors_, she thought ruefully to herself.

Casting a quick drying spell with a deft flick of her wand, Hermione rounded the corner of the Hog's Head to see a virtually empty Hogsmede.

Eyes gazing over the little village in a dawning horror, Hermione looked out at what appeared to be a ghost town. The windows to every shop were darkened - the doors to every establishment - closed. And Hermione realized with a sudden certainty that if it would have been nightfall, the Hogsmede that was before her would have taken on a very frightening aura.

Hermione looked to the skies for any sign of Dementors, but when all that she saw were darkened clouds gathering loudly - concocting what would surely be a fearsome storm; she cautiously moved up a narrow pathway that led out of Hogsmede and toward the Shrieking Shack.

The trek was slightly uphill and somewhat exhausting. Still not fully recovered from her adventures beneath the cove in France only the night before, Hermione breathed heavily as the visible mist that was her breath permeated the still briskness of the air. Rounding a fork in the trail, Hermione saw the intimidating walls of the Shrieking Shack in the distance.

"_Death Eaters are scouring the Forbidden Forest as we speak..._" Snape had said. Of that, Hermione had no doubt. So, without the asset of Harry's invisibility cloak that she had so come to rely upon in adventures past, Hermione determined the best way to get to Hogwarts would be through the Shrieking Shack. It would greatly diminish the time she would have to spend walking by the Forest and offered the advantage of being remote, undeniably frightening, and Hermione hoped - completely deserted.

With one final loud breath, Hermione came over the slight incline that leveled off in front of the shack. Eying the exterior suspiciously with one furrowed brow, she brandished her wand.

"_Homenum Revelio!_" She whispered softly as she waited for the spell to take effect - revealing if there were any humans within the shack or the nearby vicinity.

When Hermione felt no such sensation - relief immediately washed over her and she turned at a right angle to find the entrance of the shack.

As she rounded the west wall of the structure, Hermione was grateful that her footprints alone in the aged, crunching snow were the only thing that seemed to have recently disturbed the area. Crouching to peer through a broken window that was ground level, Hermione squinted into the shadowy interior. Shuddering slightly, she backed away with haste and made for the front entrance - which turned out to be a dingy door barely hanging on one hinge.

Wand at the ready, Hermione hesitantly pushed the dilapidated door forward as it made a great groaning sound - allowing a small entrance to the interior. Swallowing heavily, Hermione ducked below a wooden beam that had evidently fallen from some rafter above and lodged itself in the entryway. As she crossed over the would be 'threshold', Hermione silently lighted her wand as she struggled to remember the exact location of the underground passageway that led to the grounds of Hogwarts and the infamous Whomping Willow.

Each step Hermione took created a loud creaking noise beneath her feet - and with each step, she felt her heart nearly hitch up in her throat.

_Calm. Stay calm._

_You cast the spell - you know that no one is in here with you._

_Well, no humans, anyway. _

_It's just a creepy old building - nothing more; nothing less._

And Hermione flashed briefly back to the last time she was in the Shrieking Shack - in her third year.

_I wasn't this frightened then, and I'm a bloody Auror now._

Of course, Harry had been with her then.

And though Hermione was usually the brains of whatever operation they were embarking on, Harry always seemed to be the one in control.

_Gryffindor courage_, Hermione thought as she came to the top of a very precarious looking stairwell.

Squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath, Hermione took a tentative step on the ledge below. Tapping it gently with her foot before leaning on it with the full force of her weight, Hermione slowly lowered her left leg so that she was completely standing on the steps that descended deeper into the shack.

With care and precision, Hermione checked each of the stairs with one foot before venturing further below onto the next step. About midway down the stairs, a rustling sound below caused Hermione to step down heavily with a start. The abrupt pressure of her weight on the frail step generated a sharp crack as Hermione's leg went fully through the wood. Shrieking loudly as she fell through the hole in the step, Hermione managed to grab a hold of the next step in succession that was now above her - dropping her wand to the ominous basement below, along with the wood and dust that was settling somewhere beneath her.

Hermione had heard when her wand clattered toward the ground. As a million different thoughts of panic were frantically pulsing through her brain, she managed to focus on that one point. It was a good couple of seconds before she heard her wand collide with the ground. That, in turn, meant for Hermione that she had a pretty good fall ahead of her if she let go.

_Damn._

As her upper arms began to tremble with the strain of trying to pull herself up over the step, Hermione suddenly felt a rush a cold air and a sense of despair and hopelessness that was almost physically painful. With a dawning of a dreadful realization, Hermione stifled a small gasp.

There was a Dementor in the Shrieking Shack.

And then, she could actually feel it's presence as it hovered above her - greedily taking away her joyful memories. A deep inhuman noise sounded beside her, and with a new shock wave of horror, Hermione realized that there were two of them.

Struggling already as she was, Hermione knew that she did not have the strength to hang onto the step with one arm and summon her wand. So with a silent prayer in her head, Hermione closed her eyes and let go of the ledge.

_One._

_Two._

Hermione counted as a rush of air caused her stomach to do a enthusiastic back flip before she crashed violently to the floor. Groaning loudly as she pulled her knees to her chest, Hermione didn't have time to focus on her throbbing legs. The Dementors had already descended upon her and were now so close to her prone form that Hermione could have literally reached up and grabbed their cloaks.

Feeling around frantically on the ground around her, Hermione groped helplessly for her wand. As she felt the despair from the Dementors increase with each passing second, she urged herself forward in the dark, scrambling on her hands and bruised knees - desperately searching for her wand. And just as the Dementor's hold became nearly unbearable - the despair and hopelessness nearly as overwhelming as when Ron had been killed, Hermione's right hand nudged a familiar object.

In one swift movement, Hermione rolled onto her back, pointed her wand at her attackers, and shouted loudly as she thought of her kiss with Draco in the rain, "_EXPECTO PATRONUM!_"

A blinding, brilliant light filled the entire expanse of the shack's pitch-black interior as Hermione's silver otter burst forth from her wand and chased after the two Dementors with such vicious haste that the attackers immediately fled.

Panting softly on the dusty ground, Hermione lifted up her cloak and robes to observe her legs. As she shone the light from her wand on the area, she could clearly see a nasty purple bruise was already beginning to form on the left shin - just below the knee. There were a few minor abrasions from the loose wood. Cursing loudly, Hermione stood on shaky legs and took a few tentative steps in the darkness. Other than the slight throbbing sensation that was coursing through her calves, she ascertained that she could walk without causing significant incident.

Hermione took in a panoramic view of the basement area as she shone her wand ahead of her. A few meters forward and just to the right lay the darkened tunnel that led to the Whomping Willow. Relief washed over her as she made her way over to the tunnel - looking cautiously behind her for any sign of a repeat appearance of either one of the Dementors.

With one final glance over her shoulder at the Shrieking Shack, Hermione ducked her head and strode through the tunnel's entrance.

_A lot more cramped than the last time_, Hermione thought ruefully as she ducked lower still and nearly crawled around a sharp bend. Of course, the last time she had been in this tunnel, she was thirteen years old - and hadn't even begun to grow. Suppressing a small smile, Hermione thought of how back in those days she had been slightly taller than Harry.

A small squeak from a rat near her feet pulled Hermione out of her reverie. Pointing her wand at the putrid vermin, Hermione couldn't help but think - with a great shudder - of Wormtail.

_He's dead, though._

_Keep moving._

Stepping over the foul beast, Hermione continued through the low tunnel for several moments without incident. The length of the tunnel seemed much longer than she recalled. With every bend she rounded, Hermione felt certain that she would see the steps leading up to the Whomping Willow. But each bend seemed to lead to another straight stretch of walking that lead to another bend. After what seemed like several hours, Hermione finally rounded a bend that opened up into a larger circumference and just ahead of her - Hermione saw the rocky steps that led out of the earth and into fresh air.

_Finally._

Slowly climbing the make shift steps, Hermione pocketed her wand to grab onto a rocky ledge as she hoisted herself up and out of the tunnel.

Immediately, Hermione knew she was in the right place.

With a great groan, the Whomping Willow that was just above her seemed to spring to life. Reaching into her cloak, Hermione brandished her wand and casually flicked it up toward the tree.

"_Immobulus!_"

The massive tree shuddered slightly, and then stilled itself as Hermione walked from beneath it's shade and into the open.

Hermione wasn't sure how long she had been in the tunnel - but the storm clouds that had been brewing when she had left Hogsmede looked as though they were ready to burst open at any second. With a quick glance at the Forbidden Forest, Hermione's senses kicked into overdrive as she strode toward Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

It was when the massive iron gate was in view and she had sent her Patronus to Minerva McGonagall that Hermione saw shadows emerging from the Forest. Glancing over her shoulder, Hermione saw five - no - six, Death Eaters striding up the hill toward her. With no sign of McGonagall at the gate, Hermione turned to face the Death Eaters - wand over her head in attack position.

Before a particularly tall Death Eater even had time to finish ascending the mound of earth several meters from where Hermione stood, a red stunning spell hit him square in the chest - sending him rolling precariously the way in which he had come.

Hermione stood like a warrior in battle - hair blowing furiously around her as the heavens broke open and the rain began to fall. Her wand was poised threateningly ahead of her as the Death Eater continued to roll back wards.

Two other Death Eaters were coming at her from the east, and without uttering a word, Hermione sent her wand into a complicated movement as an eruption of light shot from the weapon, causing both Death Eaters to freeze on the spot and fall to the earth.

The rain was now pouring down in frantic intervals, melting what was left of the snow.

As the remaining three Death Eaters approached Hermione, stumbling on the newly slippery grounds; Hermione strode towards them with purpose and with three quick flicks of her wrist, sent full body binding curses on each of them.

Not a single Death Eater had retaliated or fired one curse at her.

_That was too easy_, Hermione thought with concern as she took several deep breaths.

At that very moment, Minerva McGonagall came running from the length of the castle, wand drawn with a very angry looking Filch jogging behind her.

"Hermione!" Minerva shouted, as she finally reached the gate and undid the wards.

Hermione rushed toward the elder witch and quickly embraced her, "Minerva - I'm so glad you're here."

"Where have you been?" McGonagall demanded sternly, as she pulled back to look at Hermione, "Potter said that there hasn't been a sign of you for - Oh my goodness!"

And McGonagall gently pushed Hermione to the side as she stepped out from around her to observe the fallen Death Eaters that were strewn precariously across the grounds.

"What happened?"

Hermione firmly grasped the older witch's upper arms as she steered her towards the castle, "I don't have much time to explain," Hermione began, "Those Death Eaters have been hiding in the Forbidden Forest - the moment I sent my Patronus to you, they made their appearance."

Minerva turned around towards Filch, who was idly standing by the prone body of the nearest Death Eater, kicking him roughly in the side.

"Yes," Minerva replied, "Hagrid made us aware of their moments and we have since barricaded the students in the castle. Hogsmede has been completely evacuated, but we've been too worried to risk moving the children. The Order has been preoccupied with a sudden onslaught of Death Eaters at the Ministry..." she trailed off before she addressed Filch, "Argus! Please stay here and keep an eye on them - I will send Professors Flitwick and Lupin down to assist you."

"Remus is here?" Hermione asked incredulously; completely forgetting his post as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"Yes," Minerva replied as she continued towards the castle, "Although on and off - his being head of the Order of the Phoenix greatly minimizes the time he spends here at Hogwarts - not to mention - it seems as though he and Potter have taken on a little project together...he's generally only here for classes," she concluded with obvious disapproval in her voice.

"Headmistress," Hermione said as she followed McGonagall through the main gates of the castle, "I need to get into the Chamber of Secrets."

McGongall stopped dead in her tracks, causing Hermione to nearly walk right into her, as she turned around and looked at her former favorite student with evident confusion.

"The Chamber of Secrets? But whatever for? Is that why the Death Eaters have been watching Hogwarts?" She demanded as she put her hands on her narrow hips in a manner that would have even sent Molly Wealsey running. "How is it that no one in the Order knows of this?"

"Headmistress, please...I don't have time to explain. And no - I think that those Death Eaters out there were specifically after me..." Hermione trailed off before regaining her thoughts, "It was odd, though - they didn't even seem to put up a fight..."

Minerva looked at Hermione as though she had just pronounced the wrong answer in class, "Why would those Death Eaters be after you, Hermione?"

_Because Voldemort knows that I can do wandless magic and he thinks a formal introduction is in order._

"I'm not exactly sure...but I have to get into the Chamber," Hermione lied as she walked through the main corridor and began to scale the stairway that led to Moaning Murtle's bathroom.

"Hermione Granger!" Minerva shouted with authority, "You be careful! Do you understand? I don't care if your an Auror or not - look after yourself!"

Hermione paused to look back at Hogwarts's Headmistress. "Yes, Headmistress, I will," she replied with a shaky smile, "I'll hurry as fast as I can."

And with that, she turned on her heels and was off.

When Hermione finally burst through the doors that led to Moaning Murtle's bathroom, a new wave of fear hit her like a ton of bricks.

_What if I can't open the Chamber?_

Hermione had shown her confidence in the manner when she had suggested her idea to Snape, but here alone in Hogwarts, her long suppressed doubts were resurfacing.

Just as she turned to the sink to mutter the password, a loud shriek came from one of the stalls as Moaning Murtle floated out from underneath the door, hands in her face - crying.

"Murtle?" Hermione asked, tentatively.

"Oh! It's horrible, it's just horrible!" Murtle wailed as she continued to cover her face.

Hermione walked cautiously over to Murtle and raised an eyebrow, "Murtle, what's horrible? Please, it's me - Hermione Granger. Do you remember me from when I went to school here?"

At Hermione's mention of her name, Murtle uncovered her face and glided over to where Hermione stood, "Oh yes!" she said an extremely high pitched voice, "I remember! I remember everything! You and that handsome dark haired boy and the boy with ginger hair were here - I remember!"

Hermione nodded, "Yes, that's right; Harry and Ron," Hermione said without a second thought, "But Murtle...I'm going down in the Chamber, so could...er... you maybe keep it down just a bit?"

At that request, Murtle set into a whole new fit of sobs as she covered her face and flew around the bathroom, "But there is someone already down there! And every time the Chamber is opened - something bad happens! Look at me! That's why I'm dead!" She shrieked before she returned to her position in front of Hermione.

"Wait! Murtle..." Hermione began frantically, as she very nearly tried to grab the translucent girl. "Someone is down there? Right now? Who's down there, Murtle? Please - this is extremely important."

Between sobs, Murtle managed a shaky, "...red eyes...there were red eyes!!..."

Hermione, who was desperately trying to comfort the crying ghost, stood rigid and erect at Murtle's revelation.

_Red eyes?_

_Impossible._

Harry had told her that Voldemort had red eyes - slits, really - but red nonetheless.

But how could Voldemort have gotten into the castle without anyone else knowing?

It couldn't be...

It was impossible...

Hermione felt a chill run down the length of her spine as she subconsciously clutched her wand even tighter.

Murtle was still having a fit and went through one the stalls as she continued to wail.

Shaking with a fear that Hermione was quite sure she had never before experienced in her life, she turned toward the sink - swallowed loudly, and made the same hissing sound Harry had done when he opened Slytherin's locket.

It only took two tries.

The sink groaned and shifted loudly, folding in on itself as it revealed a dark pit that led to the Chamber of Secrets.

Peering over the edge of the dark hole, Hermione closed her eyes.

_Courage. Gryffindor courage._

_You can end this._

_Right here - right now._

_Singlehandedly, you can bring about Voldemort's demise._

Slowly opening her eyes, Hermione again peered into the black abyss. Shining her wand into the pit, she still could not see how far away the ground was.

_How did Harry and Ron get down there in the first place?_

And then a thought struck her.

She almost had to physically restrain herself from smacking her forehead with her hand - she felt so foolish.

Carefully pocketing her wand, Hermione closed her eyes. A moment later when she opened them, she stood on all fours - as a griffin.

Her griffin eyesight was infinitely better than her human eyesight. Sticking her great head into the pit, her keen eyes adjusted to the darkness and she could make out the floor - some forty meters down.

Taking one last glance to see if Murtle had emerged from the bathroom stall, Hermione dove head-first into the Chamber of Secrets.

The circumference of the pit that led to the ground below was narrow - nearly like a wishing well. Not until there were only ten meters left to fall, (where the Chamber widened immensely), did Hermione spread her massive wings - pounding them furiously as they gracefully lowered her to the ground.

The moment her razor-sharp claws touched ground, Hermione transformed back to her human form and brandished her wand - pointing it in front her on the defensive.

But aside from the sounds the rats were making as they crawled over a rather disturbing pile of bones - the Chamber was silent.

Cautiously, Hermione ventured forward, her lighted wand shakily leading the way - causing the light to play off the barrel vaults in the Chamber at odd angles.

_Ok. Harry said the Basalisk was killed in a massive atrium with water._

Hermione looked around the Chamber in confusion. There were tunnels that led in every direction - making it impossible to decide which one take.

With shaking hands, Hermione turned to the first tunnel on her left and followed it for several moments to a dead end.

Returning to her original starting place, Hermione took the first tunnel on the right - only to come to the same result.

A dead end.

_Why do they have to call it a 'dead end', anyway?_

Feeling more annoyance than fear at this point, Hermione walked further down the main tunnel before venturing off to a side tunnel on her left. As she rounded a bend, she nearly screamed out in fear as she stumbled upon what she realized was a giant snake skin.

_Disgusting. _

_How has this not decomposed yet?_

Pressing forward, Hermione began reciting facts aloud about the Basalisk as she continued down the tunnel in a vain attempt to calm her nerves.

"...can live over one hundred years..."

"...can kill you by looking straight in the eye..."

"...the males have a red making on their chest..."

"...spiders flee from it..."

"Ouch!"

Hermione was brought out of her reciting as her foot caught a protuberance in the tunnel. Stepping carefully over the raised piece of stone, Hermione looked up to see an opening in the distance. As her heart began racing in her chest, Hermione splashed through the ankle deep water as she hurried to the opening. Once she walked through the archway and turned to her left, her jaw nearly dropped.

Before her - unlike any description Harry could have ever given, was the main atrium in the Chamber of Secrets.

A narrow pathway led to a gigantic statue of a man's head. Parallel to the pathway were stone statues of enormous snakes - presumably Basalisks. They had raised necks and heads coming out of the water in an illusion that made Hermione feel very much as if the statues were in striking position of whomever was walking along the path.

And up ahead - remarkably, unbelievably, was the body of the Basalisk.

With widened eyes and a new sense of determination, Hermione sprinted as fast as her aching legs would allow until she stood and hovered over the once great beast.

The morbid sight of a slightly decomposing creature should have probably frightened her - but the only thing on Hermione's mind were the creature's fangs. The yellow, knife sized daggers were clearly visible in the beast's somewhat parted mouth. Bending over, Hermione hesitantly reached her left hand forward and wrapped her fingers around the nearest fang as she pulled up with all her strength.

The fang did not budge.

Brandishing her wand, Hermione pointed it at the Basalisk's fang and whispered, "_Accio Basalisk Fang!_"

Shockingly, in one rapid moment, all of the Basalisk fangs dislodged themselves from the creature's rotting gums and flew towards Hermione's wand. A second had barely passed as she screamed loudly and covered her head.

An eerie high pitched chuckle from directly behind her caused Hermione's blood to freeze and her eyes to snap open.

"Have you ever heard the phrase, 'think before you act', Miss Granger?" asked a shrill voice.

Heart pounding furiously in her chest as though it were a frightened animal trying to escape its cage, Hermione drew her wand to her side and clutched it tightly.

Turning around with more speed that she truly thought she was capable, Hermione whirled around, pointed her wand at the tall figure she knew to be Lord Voldemort and shouted, "EXPELLIARMUS!"

Voldemort, surprised by the intensity and speed of the spell, managed to block Hermione's curse a millisecond before it came into contact with his emaciated looking body.

Black robes swirling around his ghastly white skin, Voldemort calmly waved his wand and before Hermione knew anything else, her wand was in the hand of the darkest wizard of all time.

Voldemort's presence was overwhelming. Tall, snake-like in his precise movements, he appeared strictly forbidding - and his eyes - the red eyes were too terrifying to look at directly.

"It seems," Voldemort began quietly - as though he were striking up a conversation with an old friend, "...that you have taken the route of one, Harry Potter. And while I have always dismissed your dear friend _Potter_, as having nothing more than an overwhelming dose of luck on his side, " he spat Harry's name with obvious vehemence and disgust, "It is quite clear to me that you are infinitely more powerful than the dear '_Boy Who Lived_'."

Hermione stood staring dumbly at the dark wizard without knowing what to say or do.

_And what does one say to Voldemort?_

And so she said the first - albeit not the smartest thing, that came to her mind.

"Go to Hell."

She awaited for the retaliation that was sure to come - a scream, a curse, a hex - anything. But Voldemort stood and eyed her with something of a look of admiration on his face - if that were at all conceivably possible.

And then, in an almost disgusting manner, and thin smile appeared on his sinister lips.

"You have more passion and fire in you than most," Voldemort said as he took a step closer to Hermione - causing her, in turn, to take a step back, "And though your blood is tainted...I still have a use for you."

Anger flashed across Hermione's eyes as she involuntarily took a step forward and shook her index finger at him, "And you would know all about what it means to have 'tainted' blood, wouldn't you, _Tom_? Last I checked you had the same muggle blood flowing through your veins as I do," Hermione spat.

Whether at the use of his given name, or the comment of his lack of being a Pureblood, Hermione wasn't exactly sure - but Voldemort strode forward - completely thunderous. Without a break in momentum, he grabbed Hermione by the front of her cloak, and with surprising strength - lifted her into the air.

"You think that using that name will give you power over me?" Voldemort hissed as his terrifying red eyes flashed just inches from Hermione's face. "Dumbledore thought it would be a great deterrence to me as well...and where is the old fool now?"

"Dead," he concluded shrilly after several moments - his crimson eyes boring into Hermione's frighted toffee ones.

Swallowing as best as she was able with Voldemort's grip on her throat, Hermione slowly met his eyes with determination, "Dead by the hand of a man whom you thought to be your servant these many years," she spat and swallowed again, "Even in death...Dumbledore triumphs."

And then Voldemort did the last thing that Hermione would have ever expected him to do.

He slapped her straight across the face.

No curse - no unforgivable from his ivory wand - but a muggle, primitive slap across the face as he threw her to the ground next to the Basilisk.

_Why is he sparing me?, _Hermione thought to herself as she wiped the blood from her mouth with the back of her sleeve.

_The Dark Lord,_ Snape had said, _is just as curious about Hermione's abilities with wandless magic as the rest of the wizarding world would be if they knew she possessed them...I am confident...he would keep her alive...a powerful bargaining chip for Potter..._

And as Hermione looked up from the ground to stare at Voldemort's face with contempt, she saw a Basalisk fang - lying not two feet from within her reach.

Surreptitiously feeling in her robes for Ravenclaw's compass, the moment her fingers wrapped around its circumference, she steadied herself.

It was time.

"You know, Tom," Hermione began from her prone position on the damp floor, "We aren't so different, you and I. We both have muggle blood flowing through our veins - both of us were essentially loners for quite some time..." she continued as she shifted her body toward the Basilisk fang, "...and we both have an insatiable thirst for something greater...for me - knowledge. And for you..." she paused as she was within reach of the fang.

"Power and immortality."

Voldemort regarded her silently behind narrowed, crimson eyes.

And in one swift moment, Hermione seized the Basilisk fang with frantic hands and drew the compass from the folds of her cloak as she met Voldemort's widened eyes.

"But unfortunately," she whispered, "...immortality comes at a price."

And Hermione's hand rose heroically in the air - clutching a yellow fang - and came crashing down upon Ravenclaw's compass.

* * *

_Well, there you have it! Voldemort FINALLY makes his appearance! Please review!!_


	16. Chapter 16

_"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy."_

- Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

* * *

Hermione Granger knew that her life had been full of several defining moments - landmarks, really. 

The moment in her first year when she had told Professor McGonagall that she was responsible for the incident with the Mountain Troll - solidifying her friendship with Harry and Ron.

Her decision to follow Harry to the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic was an obvious one, as well. She remembered - quite vividly, in fact - her mind screaming that there was no logic in the decision. But whatever inner turmoil she had fought in that moment - she could not bring herself to let Harry go by himself.

The decision had very nearly cost her her life.

Of course, there was the moment at the end of her sixth year, when she had told Harry that she would follow him to the end - no matter the cost.

And then most recently, her decision to trust Draco Malfoy - which in turn had thrown her on a whirlwind of events - crumbling and shattering the thick walls that had surrounded her heart - daring it to beat...to hope again...while simultaneously catapulting her forward in the search for the remaining Horcruxes.

But now, in the underbelly of Hogwarts in the Chamber of Secrets, all of those defining moments seemed relatively insignificant. For Hermione Granger was staring into the crimson eyes of Lord Voldemort as she stabbed the Basilisk fang in the dead center of Ravenclaw's compass - vanquishing a part of his soul forever.

It was one of those moments where time - for however brief - seemed to stand completely still. As the fang penetrated the surface of the compass, Hermione knew that even time was at the mercy of this grandiose action - an action that could possibly effect the future and course of thousands of souls. A moment so powerful and life-altering in it's own right - that time, itself had to pause to observe the spectacle.

Hermione slowly looked up from the shattered compass and into Voldemort's forbiddingly distorted face and asked softly - with the faintest hint of victory in her voice, "Where is Nagini, Tom?"

And then, not surprisingly, the curses did come.

As a jet of red nearly collided with Hermione's chest -_ is he still trying to not kill me?_ - Hermione stretched her right hand forward and wordlessly deflected the spell.

And before Voldemort could fire off another curse, Hermione closed her eyes and thought of a happy memory - silently praying the spell would work without her wand.

_"Expecto Patronum!"_ she shouted; and a silver otter burst from the palm of her hand - angrily gnashing its teeth at Voldemort.

"It's done!" Hermione said in a rush, as she spoke to the otter - dodging a particularly nasty curse, as she rolled toward the corpse of the Basilisk, "The compass is destroyed - tell the Order; it is time." And with the slight jerk of her wrist, the otter gave one last baleful look at Voldemort and soared back though the tunnel of the Chamber of Secrets.

Voldemort looked murderous.

And in one swift motion, he closed the distance between them - this time, his wand on Hermione's throat.

"That was a mistake, Mudblood," he hissed, as he pressed his wand painfully against her skin.

Hermione winced slightly, but refused to cower. "And what will you do now, Tom? Kill me?" She asked - her voice, unwavering, "There are worse fates then death."

A small, disturbing smile played over Voldemort's lips as he lowered his mouth to her ear, "I'll think one up for you," he whispered.

A powerful chill ran down the length of Hermione's spine as her eyes widened in fear.

Clearly satisfied that he had elicited terror within her, Voldemort pulled his face slowly backwards - and with a deft wave of his wand, binding cords shot out and wrapped firmly around Hermione's wrists. As Hermione struggled with the bindings, she abruptly cried out in agony for several prolonged seconds. Wincing slightly, she lifted her head to look up at Voldemort with disdain.

"If you wish to burn another layer of flesh off your wrists, then by all means - keep fighting," he hissed, menacingly.

Hermione glared up at him furiously as she struggled against the bonds once more - and once more she cried out as the flesh was ripped from her skin.

Voldemort sneered as he grabbed her by the upper arm and pulled her along with him towards the exit of the atrium, "And they say that you're the smartest witch of your generation," he scoffed as he roughly pushed her through the tunnel, " - yet you continue to fight your bonds," he paused slightly as his crimson eyes once again raked over her terrified face, "Smartest witch, indeed," he concluded rasping - as though he clearly considered her anything but.

As Hermione struggled against Voldemort's grasp - carefully trying to avoid moving her wrists to prevent another layer of skin from being seared off her body, she spat his name with vehemence, "And what do you expect to do now, _Tom_? I think the professors might find it somewhat disconcerting when they see you dragging me from the bathroom and down the corridors of Hogwarts."

"Foolish girl," Voldemort hissed, "You think the Heir of Slytherin has no other way out of the Chamber? Your pitiful mind is more one dimensional than others give you credit for," he said as he tugged Hermione through the narrow tunnel that led out to where she had originally entered the Chamber.

And just down the main entryway to the right was a small statue in relief form that was so camouflaged against its stone surroundings that it was barely visible.

The relief was of a serpent -_ not too surprising there_ - that had a jeweled broach firmly gleaming on its chest. Still keeping one hand firmly grasping Hermione's upper arm, Voldemort ran his bony, ivory fingers over the rock surface as he hissed a command.

And with a great crack, the relief shuddered and split into two - forming a narrow passageway that led into complete darkness.

Upon seeing the blackened passageway, Hermione fought violently against Voldemort's grasp - forgetting the bonds that instantly began burning her wrists.

"What do you want with me? Where are you taking me?" Hermione demanded as she struggled against him, "Let me go, you monster!" she shouted as she gave a vain attempt to kick Voldemort in the shin. "Don't you get it? It's over for you! Your Horcruxes are destroyed! Your pathetic Death Eaters are no match for the Order of the Phoenix and if you think - "

Voldemort quieted Hermione not with a silencing charm - but with another rough slap across the face.

"Listen to me, girl," he whispered in a raspy voice as his face drew intimidatingly close, "You have no idea of what I am capable of doing to you. The stories you may have heard from Potter - the rumors, the tales...none of it comes remotely close to the infinite terrors your mind can imagine. Your deepest nightmares would be a comfort compared to the things I am capable of."

And without saying anything more, he turned on the spot, dragging Hermione with him through the darkness.

* * *

To say that Draco was worried would be as accurate a statement as saying Michelangelo was a painter. 

The truth was that Draco was very nearly panic-stricken.

For the past several hours, he had done nothing besides pace back and forth in front of the fireplace like a caged lion. Occasionally, he had - of course, checked the grounds for any sign of Hermione - but when the only stirring he saw of the landscape was the wind rustling over the high grass, he eventually returned and resumed his pacing by the fireplace.

"Will you stop that?" Snape snapped, as he looked up with glaring ebony eyes from the sitting chair.

Draco paused mid-step and turned to look at his former professor. While the past several hours had been complete agony for Draco; Snape seemed to be regaining his strength by the minute. Not an hour prior, he had risen from the sofa, summoned a book, and was now reading quietly in the sitting chair - as though his misadventure with Voldemort and the Death Eaters early that day had never occurred.

"It's been too long," Draco said, flatly.

Snape looked up once again - but did not speak.

"It shouldn't have taken this long," Draco pressed as he began his pacing once more, "Something must have happened...it wouldn't take this long to get into the Chamber and out with a few Basilisk fangs...something is wrong..."

Something flashed over Snape's dark eyes before he spoke, "Draco - son, we must be patient. Hermione is an extremely resourceful witch. I am quite confident that she can handle most anything that chance throws her way."

"Of course she's resourceful!" Draco cried, as he threw his arms in the air, "That's why she should be back by now! Any minor problem that she could have encountered would have already been solved! Don't you get it? It's because there isn't a _minor_ problem - there is a _huge_ problem!"

And then he collapsed on the sofa, visibly defeated, "We need to do something," he whispered softly.

Snape regarded the young man before him momentarily and then spoke, "Draco, we could risk compromising Hermione's position if we interfered. And quite truthfully," He added as he chuckled softly, "I would hate to be on the receiving end of whomever felt the need to 'come to her rescue', as it were. I don't even need to image all of the adjectives she would come up for someone who felt she couldn't handle a simple task."

Draco's eyes slowly met Snape's, "Don't patronize me, Severus. Stop trying to make me feel better about a situation that I didn't feel good about it the first place. I know something is wrong. It is not a _simple_ task - and you know it. If you think that I'm just going to - "

But before Draco could continue, Hermione's silver otter burst frantically into the room - creating a blinding light that lit the entire expanse of the main floor of the castle.

"It's done!" Hermione's distraught voice shouted from the otter, "The compass is destroyed - tell the Order; it is time."

And then the brilliant otter vaporized into a thin mist.

Draco was already on his feet and sprinting to the main entryway with a disgruntled Snape hot on his heels.

"Draco!" Snape shouted, "Draco, get back here this instant so we can think for a moment!"

But Draco continued forward at a rapid pace, "Why would she send her Patronus, Severus?" Draco shouted over his shoulder. "I'll tell you why - because she is unable to get here herself! Ergo - something is wrong!"

Before Draco could open the massive doors and escape into the cool afternoon air, Snape mumbled incoherently behind him, and Draco suddenly ran straight into an invisible barrier - knocking him roughly to the ground.

"What the hell?" Draco demanded, as he looked up from his prone position, "How did you do that without a wand?"

Snape bent over to help the younger man up as he pulled from his robe the wand of Lucius Malfoy.

"Where did you find that?" Draco asked, obviously annoyed while still trying to find some way around Snape's shield.

"In your rucksack when Hermione removed the compass earlier this morning. The sheaf was sticking out quiet visibly," Snape replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

Draco eyed the wand momentarily before speaking softy, "You cannot ask me to stay here and do nothing, Severus, - not when she is most likely in very real danger."

"Draco," Snape began quietly, "I understand that you have feelings for the girl, but that is all the more reason for us to reserve caution."

"How can you say that!" Draco shouted as he pounded his fist against the invisible barrier, "You of all people! You - who loved Lily Potter! And if you think for one second that I am just going to let something happen to Hermione - especially after what she just did for us - for the Order - for the entire wizarding world - " he trailed off and then spoke in a deadly tone, "...think again."

"Draco, I have asked you to not speak of..._her_...in my presence," Snape said with a quiet power. And then, firmly clasping his hand on Draco's shoulder, he spoke compassionately, "I would never ask you to abandon Hermione - and I certainly don't intend to, either. But we must act on the information that she has just given us - we need to inform the Order to be ready."

"But there is still Nagini that needs to be killed before anyone can even touch the Dark Lord," Draco objected as Snape led him back to the drawing room with the fireplace. "Not to mention the fact that everyone in the entire Order believes us both to be traitors."

"Not everyone," Snape said quietly as he sat on the sofa and placed his head in his hands.

"What?" Draco asked in alarm, "What do you mean, _'not everyone'_?"

Sighing deeply, Snape looked up at Draco and with a slight smile said, "Remus Lupin is aware of the vow I made with Dumbledore."

Draco's eyes widened dramatically, "How? You told me that it wouldn't be safe to return to the Order - that they wouldn't be able to protect either one of us."

"Which is completely true. Lupin knew of the Unbreakable Vow because he was our bonder. Obviously, he protested to Dumbledore's orders of me killing him nearly as much as I, myself did - but he understood in the long term of events - that it was the only way. No one else in the Order was made aware of my allegiance to their cause or to Dumbledore, as it very well had to be. If Potter had known and the Dark Lord had used the connection between their minds - my cover, potentially could have been blown years ago."

Draco looked as though he had just solved a particularly difficult Arithmacy problem. "But why didn't you tell me?"

"Was there a need?" Snape asked as he stood from the sofa, "You wouldn't have been able to take shelter with the Order, regardless."

Draco appeared slightly offended, but asked, "Have you been in contact with Lupin? Does he know about - well...I mean, does he know that I'm not a Death Eater?"

Snape shook his head, "I've only been in contact with him twice in the last five or six years. There hasn't been any information to share, and contact with one another - as I'm sure you can image, has been extremely difficult and dangerous on both parties. And yes," he added - almost as an afterthought, "He knows that you are not a Death Eater."

Draco nodded, "Well, send your Patronus now. The Dark Lord already knows of your betrayal to him. And we've already wasted enough time where Hermione is concerned."

Snape acquiesced by inclining his head and brandishing Lucius' wand, "_Expecto Patronum!_" he said with conviction as the silver doe sputtered from Lucius' wand.

"Lupin," Snape spoke solemnly to the doe, "The time has come. The Dark Lord has discovered my true allegiances. Hermione has gone to Hogwarts and destroyed Rowena Ravenclaw's compass - I fear, however, that she may have run into trouble along the way. Rally the Order. Contact me as soon as you can."

And with a deft flick of Lucius' wand, the graceful doe sauntered around Snape's still body before galloping out of the castle.

"What are we going to do about Nagini?" Draco asked, after several moments of silence.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes before he spoke, "Nagini's last residence was at the Riddle Manor - though I am quite certain by now that the Dark Lord will have removed her and is keeping her close at bay."

Draco had resumed his pacing by the fire, "And we'll still need a basilisk fang to get rid of her," he paused - his thoughts returning to Hermione.

"Severus - please, we have to go to Hogwarts. If anything has happened to Hermione..."

Draco's eyes were pleading - beyond desperate.

Snape gave an incredulous sigh, "Draco, I do believe that you are in love with Hermione Granger."

Draco immediately stopped his pacing and faced Snape with his head bent to the floor.

"Yes," he said quietly - unable to meet Snape's eyes, "I think I am."

Snape said nothing for several moments until Draco felt the elder man's hands grasping both of his shoulders, "We must wait until we hear from Lupin and the Order. I promise you that I will do all in my power to keep Hermione safe."

And then Draco did look up to meet Snape's eyes.

"Thank you."

* * *

Remus Lupin was looking shabbier and more mangled than ever. 

Ever since his near death experience a few months earlier, he couldn't recall when he had last had a full night's sleep. The monthly transformations had taken an even greater toll on him - and between teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, leading the Order of the Phoenix, and being on nerves about an impending war that was looming ominously closer each day; Remus felt completely drained.

_And I'm not getting any younger, either_, he thought ruefully to himself as he stood by the fallen Death Eaters on the grounds of Hogwarts.

Minerva McGonagall had sent for him not an hour earlier and told him what had transpired on the grounds. Apparently, Hermione Granger had appeared out of nowhere and was heading to the gates of Hogwarts when the Death Eaters that had been recently residing in the Forbidden Forest seemed to suddenly awaken. Now, as he stood in the pouring rain next to the fallen Death Eaters, he considered the strange placement of events that had occurred over the last few months.

Hermione, as far as Remus knew, had been working in secret to find the last unknown Horcrux. When he had inquired to Harry about the circumstances, he had seemed just as confused and hurt as everyone else in the Order did regarding the matter. Obviously, Hermione had come to Remus' recuse and saved his life from a particularly nasty dark curse he had received in battle - but aside from the vague warnings that Hermione's Patronus had occasionally given to Harry, no one really knew what had happened to the girl.

_Woman_, Remus reminded himself, as he thought of how Hermione had grown and matured over the years since she had graduated.

But Hermione was a strange mystery.

Harry had informed him that she was capable of wandless magic on a scale that rivaled Dumbledore and Merlin, himself. Remus had never doubted Hermione's ambition or potential - but he would be lying if he admitted that he hadn't been shocked that she could master such an arduous ability. There was also the fact that she _knew_ the exact counter curse to the dark spell that had hit him.

_Had she been dabbling in the Dark Arts?_

_Of course not_, Remus dismissed as he pulled his cloak tighter around his thin body - trying to shed the rain as it continued to pound mercilessly upon him.

_Hermione has always been astonishingly brilliant and gifted - obviously she came by the curse in some obscure reading or research she was indulging in...right?_

But the more Remus pondered on the matter, the more disturbed he became. It did not seem in character for Hermione to abandon the Order - and Harry, specifically. Hermione very rarely left Harry's side - and since Ron had been murdered, the two had become nearly inseparable. The fact that she had suddenly taken up root to search for the remaining Horcrux by herself was somewhat disconcerting.

_That's not like her to go off on her own. Harry - yes, but Hermione..._

Hermione was the rational one. Despite her young age, seasoned members of the Order of the Phoenix ofter turned to her for advise and consideration in certain matters - himself, included. Certainly, the Order shielded her probably more than she appreciated - but with her history of stumbling head first into harm's way, Remus felt the shelter was necessary.

And here, in the biting wind and rain, Remus felt a shudder run down the length of his spine - he was worried._  
_

Hermione had found the compass - of that much she had informed Harry. The reason she was here at Hogwarts, Remus reasoned, had to be to obtain the Basilisk fangs. The Ministry would be too complex a feat to attempt - as he well knew. And with Voldemort's ever gaining power and influence, many of the officials within its walls were already likely to be corrupt on some level.

_But how could she get into the Chamber of Secrets?_

As Remus was pondering over how Hermione could have entered the Chamber, a silver doe burst into life from the direction of the nearest thicket of trees and began to speak urgently in Snape's deep voice.

Shocked by the sudden appearance of the doe that he had not seen in well over two years, Remus took a startled step backwards.

Once the doe had delivered the message, Remus stared blankly into the distance.

_Snape's position has been compromised?_

_Hermione has been working for Snape this entire time?_

And even more dreadful,_ she hasn't returned yet?_

As a million different thoughts soared through Remus' head, namely - how Snape had been outed, - while still managing to escape Voldemort's presence, how Hermione had made contact with Snape -_ what had made her agree to such an arrangement?_ - and most importantly - that Hermione had yet to return to wherever it was that Snape was residing - leading to the terrifying conclusion that if she was still in the Chamber...there was a good chance that someone was down there with her.

_Oh, Hermione - please be okay._

Turning on the spot, Remus ran swiftly through the pounding rain as he made for the castle. But a slight movement out of the corner of his eye caused him to stop dead in his tracks.

Up ahead, coming from the northwest corner of the castle were two figures.

The taller of the two - a man - was wearing a black cloak that was billowing furiously in the storm, but covering the entire expanse of his body. As Remus closed in on the figures, his heart began to pound rapidly in his chest. The other figure was a slender woman - fighting against the grip of the man - who was dragging her in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. And with a sudden shock wave of horror that quite literally nearly knocked Remus to the ground, Remus recognized the woman as Hermione Granger.

"Hermione!" Remus shouted as he sprinted forward with his wand drawn.

The sound of her name be called over the deafening rain caused Hermione to look away from her captor and to the direction of the voice.

When she realized the man running towards her was Remus Lupin - her heart nearly froze in her chest.

"Remus! No! Get away! It's not who you think - it's -"

But before Hermione could finish warning Remus, Voldemort turned on the spot, threw his hood back and brandished his wand.

Remus nearly tripped over his own feet at the loss of momentum. He stopped - completely shocked and dumbfounded as he stared into the crimson eyes of Lord Voldemort.

"Take one more step," Voldemort hissed over the pounding rain, "...and her next breath will most certainly be her last."

Struggling in Voldemort's grasp, Hermione cried out in pain at the bonds that burned her flesh with even the slightest of movements, "Get out of here Remus!" she screamed, "He won't kill me - just go!"

And with one final effort, Hermione extricated a small object from her robes and shoved herself violently into Voldemort's side as she surreptitiously dropped it to the ground. Enraged by the physical attack - Hermione's subtle gesture went unnoticed. Eyes burning, Voldemort grabbed Hermione by the collar of her cloak as he pulled her next to him. With his free hand, he pointed his wand at Remus.

_"Avada - "_

"NO!" Hermione screamed as she bumped into Voldemort's arm, causing him to stop mid-curse. "Remus! Get the hell out of here!!"

Enraged at the interruption, Voldemort grabbed Hermione by the crown of her head - his bony fingers ripping at her thick hair, "You will pay for that, Mudblood," he hissed menacingly into her ear.

Hermione expected that whatever retaliation or retribution Voldemort threatened her with would occur within the next moment. So she was genuinely startled when he grabbed her arms and once more - pushed her into the forbidden forest.

_Why hasn't he killed me?_

_Why won't he just stun me? _

_It would be infinitely easier on his part._

_Unless - of course...he's planning something. _

And she could hear Remus stumbling in the trees - a few meters behind them.

_Is he trying to get himself killed? _Hermione thought angrily.

With a great shove against Voldemort - who despite his emaciated looking figure, was surprisingly strong, Hermione turned around just in time to catch Remus' eye as he came around an overgrown spruce tree.

Knowing that she couldn't say it aloud, Hermione tried desperately with all of the fervor of her being to convey with the emotions of her face what her voice could not say. Her eyes locked onto his gentle blue ones - always so patient and kind - but now looking frantic and desperate, as she silently pleaded with him to turn back. Whatever emotion had been displayed on her face or in her own eyes in that brief moment must have been enough, because with an anguished expression, he met her eyes for one more second - and then turned and ran back the way he had come.

Hermione's insides unclenched in relief, as Voldemort grabbed her once again, and moved her roughly along the forest floor. Closing her eyes as Voldemort silently tugged her along, Hermione felt - quite surprisingly - at peace. Whatever happened to her now was irrelevant. Of course she was scared - hell, she was terrified beyond anything she could recall. But she had done her job. The wizarding world had a chance now - a chance to finally fight back. And with that thought on her mind, a single tear slid down her cheek as she continued into the impending darkness.

* * *

As Remus neared the edge of the Forest where Voldemort had tried to cast the killing curse at him, his eyes strung fiercely from the burning tears that were freely flowing down his scruffy cheeks. As soon as he emerged at the edge, he immediately dropped to his hands and knees and began frantically searching the forest floor. Just before Voldemort had tried to kill him, he saw Hermione drop an object into the undergrowth. He hadn't seen what it was - but he was certain that she had left it for him, and that whatever it was - it was important. 

It was that action alone that had been the only reason he had been able to let the darkest wizard in perhaps all of history, cart Hermione off into the unknown abyss of the Forbidden Forest.

And in that moment, Remus' fingers brushed a solid object that didn't seem to quite fit with the forest topography. With a pounding heart and shaking hands, Remus slowly wrapped his fingers around the object as he brought it up to his face for closer observation.

It was a Basilisk fang.

* * *

_I hope that this wasn't quite as horrible of a cliff hanger. Anyways, this chapter was a little difficult for me - with all the different perspectives and points of view. I hope that I pulled it off with some semblance of coherency. Please review - it might motivate me to update more quickly:)_


	17. Chapter 17

_"A difficult time can be more readily endured if we can retain the conviction that our existence holds a purpose - a cause to pursue, a person to love, a goal to achieve."_

-John Maxwell

* * *

Fear. 

Remus Lupin's trembling hand slowly lowered the Basilisk fang to the table. Swallowing audibly, Remus wrapped his arms around his midsection to steady himself and to prevent his entire body from shaking violently. Willing himself to have the courage to make eye contact, he finally looked up to meet the blazing eyes of Draco Malfoy and the familiar stern gaze of Severus Snape.

Remus was standing in the drawing room of Muron Castle. Only mere moments before, he had relayed the story of Hermione's abduction and his nearly fatal encounter with Lord Voldemort. Now, as the rain pounded mercilessly on the castle towers and the fire crackled loudly in the hearth, Remus waited silently for a response from either man before him.

Severus' black eyes appeared to be slowly processing the information as they darted visibly from side to side. Draco's - to Remus' utter bewilderment, were a raging storm of fury. Remus' keen Auror senses caught the slight trembling of Draco's wand hand - as well as the increase in breath as his chest began to violently contract.

But even a blind man would have been able to have seen the rage behind Draco's eyes.

"You turned around and left," Draco said flatly, with much more restraint than what Remus had expected from a man who was so obviously livid with anger.

Remus could only nod in return.

Draco appeared to be physically retraining himself - but then lost the battle.

"You mean to tell me," he screamed as he rounded on Remus and came at him with his fists, rather than his wand, "...that the Dark Lord was hauling her through the Forbidden Forest and you could have gone after them but you turned around and left!!??"

Each word was emphasized with a punch as Draco unloaded his fury on Remus.

Remus, whether due to his own paralyzing guilt - or the fact that he was still literally shell shocked from everything that had happened in the last twelve hours - did nothing to fight back.

"Draco!" Snape shouted from behind them as he cast an invisible barrier with Lucius' wand - throwing Draco violently off Remus as he landed unceremoniously by the fireplace.

Chest heaving as his voice trembled, Draco whispered as his face contorted with pain, "How could you let her go?"

Still trying to make sense of Draco's sudden concern for Hermione - _Hadn't he tried to hex the girl at every turn when they were in school_? - Remus knelt before Draco as he struggled to form the words that were in his torn heart.

"I would have gone after her, Draco - I swear!" Remus said fiercely as he gripped the front of Draco's robes and his weary eyes filled with unshed tears, "I would have _died_ for her! But her face..." he trailed off as his eyes took on a glazed appearance - as though he were far away in that moment and picturing the very face which he was trying to describe. "...her face - she was begging - pleading with me not to follow her...and I saw her drop the Basilisk fang - I didn't know what it was at the time...but her eyes - her face - she wanted me to go back...how could I not do as she asked?"

Draco's own angered face suddenly softened as Remus continued, "How could I deny her that request? Everything in my body was urging me - screaming at me to go forward - to distract Voldemort...to do _something!_ I had to physically restrain myself from taking another step - because her eyes...Draco - her eyes, were pleading with me in a way that I have never before seen in my entire being. Tell me..." he begged as his soft blue eyes bore into Draco's, "...could you have done differently?"

The light from the fire danced across Draco's face as he stared at Remus for a long moment. After several prolonged seconds, Draco visibly swallowed as said quietly, "I...I...don't know."

Remus nodded as he slowly released his hold on Draco's robes and slumped back against the couch. Snape, who had been silent during the entire exchange, finally spoke.

"You did the right thing, Remus," he said in his deep baritone, "Hermione has secured a way for us to destroy Nagini," he said as he picked the Basilisk fang up from the table and ran his slender fingers over the smooth surface.

"A truly remarkable witch," he concluded softly, as he sought Draco's eyes.

When Draco said nothing and refused to meet his gaze - Snape pressed on, "Obviously from the information that you have given us, Remus, the Dark Lord does not want Hermione to be immediately harmed or killed. If he had - she would have been dead the moment she saw his face - which was, presumably in the Chamber."

"I don't understand how he could have gotten into the Chamber," Remus said to the room at large - staring deeply into the fire, "...from what Harry has told me - the entrance is in a bathroom in public view - a teacher, or student would have seen him wandering around the halls of Hogwarts. And the wards..." he trailed off - sounding defeated, "...how could they not have detected him?"

Snape came around the sofa and sat in the arm chair, "He is the Heir of Slytherin," he said simply, "It would not surprise me if he found another entrance."

Remus nodded but said nothing.

"Was she..." Draco spoke quietly as he looked at his hands, "...injured when you saw her?"

And then his terrified eyes looked up at Remus - clearly unsure of whether he wanted a truthful answer.

"From what I could tell," Remus said levelly, "...she appeared relatively unharmed. But..." he wavered.

"But what?" Draco asked immediately.

Remus swallowed as he propped himself up higher against the sofa, "She had these strange bonds on her wrists...unlike anything I've ever seen. And at one point - when she was struggling against Voldemort - she doubled over on her wrists...and cried out in pain."

Draco eyes widened and the same intense rage flashed over them once again.

"Dragon's Cuffs," Snape said angrily from his position on the chair.

Remus raised an eyebrow, "I can't imagine Voldemort using something so primitive," he said as he fingered his wand, "...he could have just stunned her."

"Dragon's Cuffs have a very ancient kind of magic embedded within them. The obvious effect is that when the captive moves suddenly - or tries to struggle out of their grip - they burn the flesh."

"Oh...God, please...," Draco whispered as he pulled a trembling hand over his forehead - imagining Hermione's delicate wrists with massive burns around their circumference.

"But the true reason I think the Dark Lord would have used them on Hermione," Snape continued, "Is that they control all facets of magic - including wandless magic."

"But that still doesn't explain why he wouldn't just stun her," Remus countered as he looked up at Snape.

"Perhaps he tried a stunning spell on her - but she deflected it," Snape offered with a tiny smile.

Draco, looking up at Snape from his kneeling position by fireplace, did not return the gesture.

"But the question is..." Draco stated after a pregnant pause - rising to pace in front of the hearth, "...where has he taken Hermione? You can bet that wherever she is - he'll be there too - along with Nagini. Now that he knows the other Horcruxes are destroyed - I doubt he will let Nagini out of his sight."

Remus nodded solemnly, "I agree. It would be too much of a risk for him to separate from her, now. Obviously he's finding that his original strategy of having the Horcruxes scattered geographically was flawed. Nagini will not be far from him."

"So what do we do? Where do we look?" Draco asked as he stopped his pacing and turned helplessly to his two former professors, "Can Potter use his connection to the Dark Lord's mind and see where they're at?"

Remus shook his head, "No. Unfortunately, it's Voldemort that has to open the connection. Harry only see things when Voldemort either plants images in his mind - or when he's truly furious."

"But he must have been angry tonight!" Draco countered, "When Hermione destroyed the compass - he would have been outraged...maybe Potter saw something then - maybe he can see something now!"

Snape nodded thoughtfully, "Every lead or thought we have regarding the matter is worth pursuing."

And then he pinched the bridge of his nose and winced slightly.

"What is it?" Draco asked.

"I had just rather hoped that I didn't have to meet Potter anytime in the near future," he sighed, "It looks as though our little reunion is going to be sooner than I had planned," he concluded with disdain.

"Harry will understand, Severus," Lupin reassured him, "While in his teenage years he was quick to act and slow to think, he has matured much since then. When he learns of your vow to Dumbledore - he will understand. That, and the urgency to work and use whatever resources are necessary to get to Hermione, will lead him to think rationally."

"Potter has never been rational," Snape snapped.

Remus stood from the couch and made his way over Snape as he held out his hand, "The time to put our pasts behind us has come, Severus. There can be no more petty squabbles or arguments about people's fathers and what they may or may not have done. Your past as a Death Eater is over. Now it is time for you to rise a full member of the Order of the Phoenix. We all have a destiny to fulfill, Severus. It is time to meet ours - head on."

Snape looked up warily from his position on the chair. Slowly, he reached up and clasped hands with Lupin - who pulled him into a standing position.

"Summon the Order," Snape instructed as his eyes locked with Draco, "It is time for Muron Castle to become the new official headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix."

* * *

As Hermione slowly opened her eyes, she looked around in confusion. 

It was dark - _are my eyes even open?_ - and it took several moments for her eyes to adjust to the surrounding blackness.

When her pupils finally dilated to the appropriate diameter, Hermione looked around the small area to take in her strange surroundings.

She was in a cramped room with a low ceiling. Wincing slightly as she moved her wrists, the events of the previous day hit her like a Bludger to the stomach.

_The Chamber of Secrets._

_The Basilisk fang._

_Voldemort._

_And Remus Lupin?_

Heart pounding frantically in her chest, Hermione rose to her feet with a start - her head nearly hitting the ceiling.

_Please let him have found the Basilisk fang._

The strange bonds were still on her wrists, and she cursed silently to herself as she avoided moving her hands. With a sigh of annoyance, she tried to shake a dried leaf out of her hair that was hanging in her face without the use of her hands - but it stubbornly remained rooted in place. Looking around once more, Hermione noted that the room was probably eight paces by eight. The floor had hay strewn about it, and there were no windows.

_Where the hell am I?_

And then it hit her- just as powerfully as the Bludger would have.

She had been walking through the Forbidden Forest with Voldemort. It had been so cold - her wrists in such pain...and the Forest had become darker and darker as they had pressed forward. She had stumbled several times - but without the free motion of her hands to steady herself - she had fallen helplessly to the gnarled forest floor. Hermione remembered looking up on her last tumble to the ground - straight into Voldemort's furious face. There had been a flash of red light - and she remembered no more.

Shuddering slightly, Hermione suddenly realized how cold it was. Her breath was the only movement in the small room. Instinct taking over, Hermione returned to a sitting position in the corner of the small chamber and brought her knees to her chest to conserve warmth. Looking down at her bonds, her wrists beneath them were red, swollen, and burned. Even the slightest movement brought a sharp jolt of pain from the bonds.

_What the hell kind of torture device is this?_

_Dragon Cuffs are the only thing that even closely resemble these cords...but every description I've read about them still places them in a different category - would these, too, be able to control wandless magic?_

Of course they would.

Because Voldemort was certainly many things - but stupid was not one of them.

Surely he had already known about Hermione's wandless capabilities - he had seen them first hand when she had deflected a spell in the Chamber of Secrets. But even still - Hermione could not help but trying - whether due to simple curiosity - or the fact that she was at the end of her rope and this was - quite literally - her last resort.

Steadying herself against the cold wall of her prison, Hermione stretched both of her hands in front of her - careful to keep them exactly parallel so as to not activate the burning cords - and closed her eyes to mutter the incantation.

She said the first thing that came to her mind.

_"Wingardium Leviosa!"_

But the hay did not rise in the air as she had expected - or hoped it to do. Instead, the cords around her wrists began to glow a menacing red color - and the next thing Hermione knew, she was lying flat on her back in the hay.

The force of the blow knocked the wind out of her, and Hermione lay still for several seconds trying to catch her breath.

_Ok, so probably not the best idea._

It was at that very moment that a doorway appeared out of nowhere, and Voldemort stepped through - his white skin nearly glowing in a chiaroscuro fashion that contrasted dramatically against the darkness of the small room. The ceiling was too low for him to stand erect, and he immediately conjured a chair - so as not to have the appearance of bowing to Hermione's prone form.

"Ah," he hissed with a smile, "I see it has not taken you long to discover that your little abilities have no power under the confines of the Dragon Cuffs."

"Where am I?" Hermione spat as she sat up and scooted to the far wall opposite where Voldemort was sitting.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow, "Really, I thought you would be a little more cordial, Mudblood. Everyone speaks so highly of you."

"What do you want with me, Tom? Why don't you just kill me and save yourself the trouble?"

And then Voldemort laughed a pitiless, chilling laugh, "Is it not obvious? Clearly, you have something that I need - or you would have been dead the moment you entered the Chamber."

"You probably should have rethought that one - considering it cost you a piece of your soul," Hermione replied, levelly.

Voldemort's crimson eyes narrowed dangerously as he regarded Hermione's crouching form in the corner of the room.

"Indeed."

And for the second time in the past however many hours, Hermione waited for the killing curse - or at the very least - the Cruciatus.

And, once again - it did not come.

Instead, Voldemort shifted on his chair and brought it directly in front of where Hermione was sitting - the effect being that he was literally glaring down over her in contempt.

"You have something I desire."

"A nose?" Hermione questioned sarcastically - before she realized that she was actually speaking, "Mine might be a bit small for your face."

She had no idea where her courage and bravado was coming from. Possibly the adrenaline - or perhaps it was the fact that this was the man that had robbed Harry of his childhood - and had essentially taken away what should have been her carefree years studying at Hogwarts. But more than anything, Hermione realized with a sudden clarity, that it did not matter what Voldemort wanted from her - he would inevitably get whatever it was he desired - and in the end - she would still be dead.

So why not piss the bastard off along the way?

Voldemort - remaining strangely composed - but looking quite murderous, flicked his wand in Hermione's direction.

_"Crucio."_ He whispered, casually - as though reciting a boring spell in a Charm's class.

The pain was unlike anything Hermione had ever experienced. Every muscle - every nerve - every last inch of her body was on fire. All of the physical injuries that she had endured in her past _combined_ were nothing in comparison to the agony that she was now in. As she contorted and writhed on the ground - her body convulsing heavily - she finally cried out.

"Please! Stop! Please!"

But the pain did not lessen.

Hermione continued to scream as she trembled and convulsed on the ground - convinced that if she had to endure a second more - that it would be too much. Only then - only when she reached the point where she new that she physically could not go on for one more second, did Voldemort release the curse.

Whimpering and trembling on the floor - covered in the hay that she had writhed in, Hermione closed her eyes and curled her body into a ball as the after effects of the Cruciatus coursed through her weak body.

"Any other comments?" Voldemort asked - somewhat disenchanted.

Hermione could not respond. Her vocal cords - along with her entire body, seemed to have shut down. Besides the reflexive trembling and shaking that her body was undergoing - Hermione could do nothing.

But though her body could not physically respond - her mind was free. Hermione's thoughts concentrated on Draco - the glorious friendship that had blossomed out of a chance circumstance - and the more recent, deeper feelings that had overwhelmed all of her senses. His arms holding her closely - his lips hungrily upon her own...the depth in his eyes.

It was as a painful spasm seized her spine that she finally realized and accepted a truth she had been denying.

_I love him._

"Well, while you're just sitting there," Voldemort rasped as he idly held his wand up - keenly observing it, "I'll continue with that I was saying. You have something that I desire. And if you're half the witch that everyone says you are, you will no doubt understand my meaning to be your mastery of wandless magic."

Whimpering softly, Hermione's body continued to tremble.

"When you stop your whining, I intend to access your mind to see how you obtained such a skill. If that still leaves us at a stalemate...," Voldemort trailed off as a hideous smile played across his lips, "...well, we shall have to see when we get to that point, won't we?"

And then Voldemort knelt down on the ground and lowered his head so that his thin lips were nearly touching Hermione's ear, "I could make you great, you know. You could become powerful beyond anything your limitless mind can imagine. I do not care that you are a Mudblood. A blind man could see your potential - and I am always willing to make exceptions. Can you even begin to realize what a great asset to me you are? Potter - you know his nature - will come crawling to me on all fours when he learns you are in my care. And then the prophecy will be fulfilled - my power - unrivaled. It matters not that the Horcruxes are destroyed. With wandless magic...I will be untouchable...," he trailed off as he pulled Hermione's hair away from her face.

"...and you..." he whispered as his red eyes glittered, "...will serve me until the day that you die - which depending on your attitude - may be sooner, rather than later. But rest assured, Mudblood, I will get what I need from you."

And in the deepest reaches of Hermione's soul, she summoned the strength to open her eyes and speak.

"Never."

Voldemort - a mere whisper's breath away from Hermione's face, raised an eyebrow in response, "You will find," he hissed as he pressed his wand into her neck - forcing her to look him in the eye, "That I can be rather persuasive."

And then he invaded her mind.

* * *

Harry Potter stood before the threshold of Muron Castle looking somewhat skeptical. 

The wind was blowing his Auror's robes into a fury as he stood beside his former mentor, and friend - Remus Lupin.

"What is this place? How come the Order isn't meeting us until later?" Harry asked, as he turned and eyed the grounds suspiciously.

Beside him, Remus sighed as he undid the wards to enter into the castle.

"Harry," he said, as he placed his hands on either side of Harry's shoulders and looked him straight in his emerald eyes, "If I've ever needed you to trust me - in the entire history of our friendship - I need it to be this moment."

Harry raised a thick eyebrow, "I don't like where you're going with this, Remus."

Remus nodded, "I know. I just need you to trust me. Can you do that?"

Harry hesitated for a small moment, "Remus," he began, before he locked eyes with his friend, "I trust you with my life."

A sad smile played over his former professor's lips as he replied, quietly, "I know, Harry. I know."

And then Remus walked through the main entryway of Muron Castle with Harry following in his wake.

When Harry rounded the archway that led to the main drawing room - he froze.

Standing before him, were the two men he loathed most in the entire universe - save Voldemort, himself.

Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy.

Remus' wand was already drawn - ready to intervene at a moment's notice. But Harry did not scream, retaliate, or even brandish his wand. He remained frozen on the spot as his green eyes darted back and forth between Snape and Malfoy as though he were watching a rather intense tennis match.

After several moments of pregnant silence, Harry finally spoke.

"What the _hell_ is this?"

"Harry, please - before you do anything rash - you need to let me explain," Remus pleaded as he stood between Harry and the two men.

Harry said nothing - his eyes locked on Snape and Malfoy.

And so Remus told Harry everything.

While Harry listened quietly - his eyes bore into the black orbs that were Severus Snape's. Snape returned the gaze - unblinking. And what surprised Harry most in that moment was not the fact that he was standing in front of Snape and hadn't yet murdered the greasy bastard on the spot - but rather that Snape's eyes were not taunting or haughty as he had always remembered them to be. They still demanded respect - but there was something lost there - something that Harry couldn't quite pinpoint.

"...and so you must understand why we couldn't let you know, Harry," Remus concluded, after several moments of continuous speaking.

Harry swallowed as his jaw tightened - desperately trying to control his anger, "Yes, Remus. I understand."

And then his eyes locked once more with Snape's, "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"None of us like it, Potter," Draco said - speaking for the first time. "Look around you. Does it look as though any one of us are extremely pleased over the current situation?"

Now _that_ tone, Harry _did_ recognize.

"It must have been tough here, eh Malfoy?" Harry taunted as he rounded on Draco - taking a step forward, "Not having house elves cater to your every whim. No elegant balls to attend - no elaborate feasts. Quite obviously, it's you that has suffered the most in this war."

And Draco was at Harry's throat before Harry could even draw his wand.

"You know _nothing_ about me, Potter. _Nothing_," Draco whispered as he slowly lowered his wand from Harry's neck. "And if you could get off your arrogant ass for about five seconds - you just might understand what's going on here."

Remus, who had stepped forward - along with Snape, at Draco's sudden movement, broke the silence.

"Hermione has been captured, Harry."

"What!?" Harry shouted incredulously, as he rounded on Remus. "Why didn't you tell me as soon as I got here?" He demanded. "What happened? Where is she? Who took her? Is it because of the compass? Where - "

"Would you shut up, Potter?!" Draco yelled - silencing Harry. "We've already wasted precious time - and you ranting like an imbecile is only going to make things worse."

"Harry," Remus said calmly - his stern eyes silencing Draco, "The reason I didn't tell you immediately is because you had to know about Severus and Draco first. Their allegiance to the Order is vital - and Draco has been working with Hermione quite closely over the past several months - he has valuable information to share."

Harry narrowed his eyes, "How closely?"

Draco snickered, "I don't have time to bicker with you now, Potter. Hermione's life is at stake."

Eying Draco suspiciously, Harry turned back to Remus, "What do we know?"

And then Remus relayed the story nearly verbatim as to what had happened not twelve hours prior - as well as his own encounter with Hermione and Voldemort.

"Voldemort has Hermione," Harry stated blankly - as if verbalizing the horrible truth would make it seem less surreal.

"Is there any way you can see into the Dark Lord's mind?" Draco asked, "Have...have you seen anything?"

Harry didn't seem to have heard Draco. He slowly crossed the room and sat on the old sofa by the fireplace. Sighing loudly, his head sunk into his hands. "I've already lost one best friend to Voldemort," he said quietly - to no one in particular, "...and it nearly destroyed me. How could I survive if I lost another?"

Draco shifted uncomfortably as he thought of his father and then made his way to the sitting chair.

Now, _that_ was a conversation for a different moment.

"Look, Potter," he began as he scratched his head, "I know we don't particularly like one another - but all that is irrelevant right now, isn't it? I'm ready to do whatever it takes to find Hermione - including working with you."

Harry looked at Draco as though he had just proposed marriage to him.

_Since when does Malfoy call Hermione by her given name?_

_And why is he so obviously concerned about her wellbeing?_

As strange as Harry found the whole situation - he pushed those thoughts aside. Right now, the priority was Hermione - and bringing her home safely. And as his heart pounded rapidly in his chest while considering the best place to begin - he suddenly clutched his scar and doubled over in pain.

"Potter?" he heard Draco asking.

The voice sounded distant.

"Potter, are you okay?"

Harry dropped to his knees as the pain overwhelmed him - Voldemort's anger and pleasure mixing together in a strange sensation that Harry had never before felt. But the emotional link opened a vision - a vision so horrifying that Harry had to physically recoil.

"Potter!" Draco was shouting. "What is it? Can you see the Dark Lord? Can you see Hermione?"

After what seemed like an eternity, Voldemort's pleasure and anger abated, and Harry breathed heavily as sweat glistened on his forehead.

"Harry?"

This time the voice was from Remus - kneeling close to Harry at Draco's side.

"Harry, what happened? What did you see?"

When Harry finally had the strength to look up - the scene before him would have been almost comical - if not for the terrifying vision that had occurred not seconds before.

Directly across from him knelt Draco - his worried face only inches away from his own. Next to Draco was Remus - his steady hand firmly grasping Harry's shoulder. And just above Malfoy and Remus; Snape was stooping over with a deep frown etched across his face - in all likelihood the closest thing Snape's face ever got to showing concern.

Once again, Remus spoke, "Harry?"

Harry closed his eyes as his hands balled into tight fists, "It was Voldemort...and Hermione."

"Hermione?" Draco questioned as his eyes nearly bulged out of his head, "Is she okay? Could you tell? Her wrists - did it look like they were still in the Dragon Cuff's - Is she injured?"

Harry remained in silence for several moments - the three men anxiously awaiting his response.

"He was...torturing her - the Cruciatus."

As Harry finally looked up and locked eyes with Draco - what he saw in their depths startled him. Draco's face was paler than normal - as though all the blood had drained from the area. He was completely still - like a cat - suddenly startled. But it was Draco's eyes that shocked Harry - for they showed a torture and agony that was as evident as the very pain he felt twisting in his own heart.

Draco swallowed thickly as he slowly rose from the ground - his black robes falling neatly into place. The shaft of light from the fire - playing gracefully across his pained face. And as he forced from his mind things named and nameless that Voldemort could be doing to Hermione in that exact moment - he shakily grasped his wand.

"Could you see...," he trailed off - his voice thick with emotion, "...could you see where they were?"

Looking up at Draco in confusion, - _Does he truly care about Hermione?_ - Harry also rose from the ground, "It was dark - a small room. There was hay on the ground...it appeared as though the ceiling was too low."

And Draco's head shot over to Snape's direction.

"It can't be..." he whispered.

Snape's face showed the same subtle hint of recognition.

"Do you know where she is?" Harry asked, as he stepped toward Draco.

Draco nodded - fists shaking.

But it was Snape who finally spoke.

"Malfoy Manor."

* * *

_Ok, so that was a lot nicer ending than the previous two chapters. Please review - it motivates me to update more quickly!_

* * *


	18. Chapter 18

_"...a little rebellion now and then is a good thing..." _

-Thomas Jefferson

* * *

By the time the remainder of the Order of the Phoenix arrived at Muron Castle - the place was in utter chaos. 

Between the shouts of dismay at Draco and Snape still being loyal to the Order and their cause - to the horrifying revelation that Hermione had been captured by Lord Voldemort, himself - to the simple confusion of having too many people asking too many questions at once - Draco was, quite literally, ready to rip his hair out.

"Enough!" He finally screamed, as his wand rested on his throat - amplifying his voice to a disturbingly loud level.

Everyone in the drawing room froze - as though hit by an _Immobulous_ hex.

Minera McGonagall, in particular, scrutinized Draco sternly behind her wire rimmed spectacles.

"Is everyone in this room daft?" Draco questioned, incredulously - walking to the center of the room and glaring around viciously. "Hermione has been captured by the Dark Lord - and all we can do is sit around and argue? We have to act now!" He shouted as he pounded his fist on an unsuspecting coffee table. "Potter has already seen her being tortured! If no one makes a decision within the next five seconds - I'm leaving."

"Calm yourself, Draco," Snape spoke as he made his way to Draco in the center of the room. The Order members who stood in his way parted like the Red Sea to make a path for him.

As Snape came to stand his side; Draco's expression looked murderous.

"How can you ask me to remain calm?" Draco whispered - so that only Snape could hear. "How can you ask me that when you saw Potter's face? The Cruciatus? You and I both know from experience how unbearable it is!" He hissed, "And the duration of exposure greatly increases - "

"Draco," Snape interrupted softly - all eyes of the Order upon him, "What use will you be to Hermione if you're captured? We have to formulate a plan," he said as he turned his attention from Draco to the Order, "We need the Order. Now - more than ever."

Draco looked defeated - a pained expression on his anxious face. But silently, he nodded.

"Malfoy Manor has just about as many secret passageways and hidden alcoves as Hogwarts," Snape said authoritatively to the Order at large, "Nagini could be in any one of those places - and we only have _one_ Basilisk fang."

"Harry could go back to the Chamber and get the remainder of the fangs," Kingsley offered as he stepped forward - though eying Snape suspiciously. "He's a Parselmouth."

"No, Kingsley," Minera spoke sadly, "I'm afraid there is no time. And we can't guarantee that there aren't ambushers waiting at whatever entrance Voldemort initially used. For all we know - the entire Chamber of Secrets could be infested with Death Eaters. It's too great a risk."

Snape nodded, "Minerva is correct. It is too time consuming - and potentially foolish. We have what we need to destroy the snake," he sighed as he pulled the Basilisk fang from his black robes and ran his deft fingers over the smooth surface, "We just have to be smart enough to know where the Dark Lord has hidden her within the Manor's walls."

Ginny Weasley - ginger haired, hazel eyed, and beautiful - spoke as she removed herself from Harry's side, "And please explain why - once again - we need to kill this snake before we run Voldemort through?"

"It's a piece of his soul, Gin," Harry said from behind her, "It's the last piece left before we can - er, before I can, that is - destroy him. Until that's done - he's invincible."

Ginny chewed thoughtfully in her lip as Moody finally deemed himself worthy to join the conversation.

"Isn't it bloody obvious?" He shouted and stepped forward - his artificial leg cracking loudly against the stone floor. "It'll need to be a game of 'who's got the button.'"

"Got the what?" Draco asked as he rounded on Moody.

"It's a muggle game," Harry said as he clasped hands with Ginny, "If the entire Order invades the Manor," he explained, "Voldemort will assume that one - or two of us - has a Basilisk fang. He already knows that we know about the Horcruxes - well, at the very least - that I do. If we are coming at the Manor from all different angles - he'll have no choice but to keep Nagini close - because he won't know who will actually have the weapon to destroy her. He wouldn't risk leaving her unprotected without knowing who exactly had the fang."

"And so Nagini will be wherever Voldemort is," Remus concluded as he wearily scratched his chin. "It is an excellent strategy. Maybe - just maybe - if the Manor is being attacked from all sides - someone will be able to get close enough to Voldemort and destroy Nagini - if there are enough distractions on our part, that is."

"We can certainly take care of the distractions," Fred Weasley said with a smug grin on his face.

"Absolutely," George agreed as he pulled a strange object out from his weathered looking robe. "Blimy - Voldemort won't even know what's hit him. It's quite a shame he won't be living through this, though. This here spray would have made it so that he'd be smelling nothing but skunk spray for a week."

"Bloody shame, George," Fred sympathized.

"I'll be the one that gets to Nagini," Harry interrupted.

"No!" Both Snape and Remus shouted - causing Harry to narrow his eyebrows.

"It's my responsibility - " Harry countered.

"No, it is not, Potter," Snape objected, "Your responsibility is to fulfill that damn prophecy - not to get yourself killed in the process. Someone else will take care of Nagini while you bide your time and wait for the opportune moment."

And as Draco listening to the continued arguing - he fought an internal battle.

He _should_ be the one to take the fang and kill Nagini. It was time for him to play his part. Hermione had done her duty - had played her part - had possibly sacrificed her very life so that the Order and Harry would have a chance to kill Voldemort.

But he could not bring himself to speak.

Because as much as he wanted to help destroy the bastard...he wanted to get to Hermione first.

Was she even still alive?

Her beautiful sorrel eyes - with the tiny golden specks that could only be seen in direct light - would he ever be able to see them again? Her full lips - so soft and tender against his own - but amazingly still - passionate and demanding. Would he ever be able to kiss her again? Hold her?

And then Draco remembered Harry's agonizing face after he had seen Hermione being tortured - and he shuddered as though a draft of wind had entered the warm room and briefly flashed back to his own experience with the curse.

Draco had endured the Cruciatus on three separate occasions. Twice - perhaps surprising...but perhaps not - by his own father, and once by Voldemort - after the failed attempt to kill Dumbledore. Of course each time had been painful beyond anything he had known - but the encounter with Voldemort had been especially excruciating. The _desire_, the _pleasure_, and the _rage_ that emanated from Voldemort was worse than the two instances with his father combined.

_Oh, Hermione...please hang on._

_I'm coming._

And then Draco made his decision.

Hermione had played her part - now it was time for him to play his.

"I'll do it."

Moody, Minerva, and the Weasley twins reacted as though Draco had just announced he wished to join a monastery.

Snape, however, smiled sadly.

And when Draco found Harry's eyes - he saw from him, a look of gratitude mixed with one of slight surprise.

Snape fingered the fang a moment longer and then reached out to hand their last hope of salvation to Draco.

Draco - eyes never wavering - took the cold dagger and gave a mirthless grin to Snape.

"Are you with me?"

Snape's black eyes glittered as he released his hold on the fang.

"To the end."

* * *

Hermione shuddered as she looked around her tiny enclosure. 

She couldn't be sure how long Voldemort had been gone - her sense of time had been completely thrown out the window - if there had, in fact, been a window. But the after effects of the Cruciatus had been nearly as painful as enduring the curse itself - and Hermione remained curled in a ball, shaking violently, in the exact spot she had fallen when Voldemort roughly dropped her to the floor after invading her mind.

Now _that_ was a sensation unlike anything she had ever felt.

It was surprisingly violating - and frighteningly intimate. Voldemort's invasion felt as though his long fingers were raking thoroughly over her delicate brain. But more disturbing - her most intimate thoughts were exposed - on display and at the mercy of his apathetic, incomplete soul. His scarlet eyes had flashed triumphantly as he dispassionately threw her back to the ground.

"Interesting," he had whispered as he sat erect on his conjured chair.

And then his gaze returned to Hermione.

"I would have never thought that Draco would take such an interest in a Mudblood," he rasped as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "I thought you and Potter were always destined to be the happy couple," he sneered - rising from the chair and making his way to the far wall from which he had entered.

And then he turned back and regarded Hermione, "That was certainly...most educational. Your keen mind has many layers - it will take several tries before I will be able to penetrate them all," he hissed and then pack peddled, "...unless, of course, I wanted to kill you - and then I would push your mind beyond any strain it could handle. As it is - you are worth much more to me alive than dead."

And then he left - leaving Hermione crumpled and straining on the floor as the spasms of the torture curse continued to pound her body mercilessly.

In all the dangers she had stumbled upon in her past, Hermione had generally kept a positive outlook. Deep down in her heart - she somehow knew that she would come out of the situation triumphant - that she would survive. Of course - Harry and Ron been at her side - but objectively, her mind could see a way through their challenges.

But here laying on the cold ground, as her body trembled from the strain of the violent spasms, Hermione could not envision herself walking triumphantly away from the predicament she was in.

_And how could I possibly?_

_Who has ever been captured by Voldemort and lived to tell the tale?_

Harry was probably the only person that even came close.

And while the despair and inevitability of her fate sank in like a deep red wine staining a snow white carpet, Hermione's thoughts turned - once again, to Draco.

Of what could have been.

When Ron had been killed, she had convinced herself that she would never be able to love anyone with as great of passion - with the fullness of her soul - of her entire being - ever again.

But she had been wrong.

Draco had come quietly into her heart - almost stealthily - catching her unawares.

But he was there.

His unbounded ashen eyes that held nothing back - the gentleness and almost precise way in which he touched her - the smirk that had faded into a glorious smile...and - of course, his fervent lips upon her own. Hermione whimpered softly as a salty tear slid down her dirty cheek - stinging a small cut as she fantasized of what would never be.

Life was so damn unfair.

From having a childhood that had been littered with dangers at every turn - not a true childhood in the slightest - to the sufferings she had endured with Harry and Ron - to losing Ron - to have found Draco and to have opened her heart again - to stand in the dangerous flame of love and passion - only to lose Draco when Voldemort finally decided to kill her - it was just too damn unfair.

_Why me?_

_All I ever wanted was to study - to learn - to bask in the wondrous thing that was knowledge. To settle down and have a family - three, perhaps four children - and to quietly live out the remainder of my life doing research...I didn't ask to be a Gryffindor. I sure as hell didn't ask to be thrown in the midst of all this - this bloody war that has haunted me from the moment I stepped through the doors of Hogwarts. What did I ever do in any past life to deserve this?_

Hermione sighed as another convulsion seized her body.

Feeling sorry for herself wasn't going to get her anywhere, she realized. Evil prevails only where there are good men and woman who sit around and do nothing.

And she was never the type to do nothing.

_If only I could send my Patronus_, Hermione thought as she wearily looked down at the Dragon's Cuffs that still were bound to her swollen wrists.

Just as she was struggling to get herself into a sitting position, a deep crack sounded - and the strange doorway appeared on the far wall from where she was laying.

Sauntering in with all her terrifying madness stood Bellatrix Lestrange.

Hermione regarded the woman with fear as she tried to scoot herself even farther away from the temporary entrance. There was something in Bellatrix's maddening eyes that were even more frightening than Voldemort's intimidating presence.

Bellatrix confidently walked to the center of the small room - her head too - just barely shy of hitting the low ceiling.

"Hello, Mudblood," she whispered in a deep voice.

Whether due to the intense hatred that was laced so keenly within those two words, or because of the after effects of the Cruciatus - Hermione couldn't be quite sure - she shuddered as she pressed her back against the cold wall.

"What?" Bellatrix asked - in a mocked attempt of feigning emotional hurt, "No 'hello' for me? Well, I must admit I'm surprised - everyone speaks so highly of what a perfect little witch you are," she spat with vehemence.

Hermione said nothing - staring back into the slightly fanatical gleam of Bellatrix's wild eyes - trying to control her spasms and the pounding of her heart.

"I'm on strict orders to not kill you," she continued, "...though I don't quite understand why my Lord deems you worthy enough to stay alive in his presence - the filthy Mudblood that you are."

Hermione swallowed loudly as Bellatrix slowly made her approach - almost like a large cat stalking its prey.

"But that doesn't mean," she concluded - her voice deep and her eyes wild with excitement as she bent her head down to Hermione's level, "...that we can't have some fun for the time being."

And then an idea struck Hermione with such force that it nearly knocking the wind out of her - but first, she thought excitedly - she needed information.

"Where am I, Bellatrix?" Hermione's shaky voice asked, "At least give me some sense of coherency before I die."

Bellatrix's thick lidded eyes raised slightly as she laughed ruefully, "You're supposed to be bright, Mudblood. I thought you had it figured out by now," she scoffed, "You're in the dungeon of Malfoy Manor."

_Malfoy Manor?_

_Could it be?_

But Bellatrix's stance and expression gave Hermione no reason to assume that she was lying.

_All right - that's one thing down._

"And your..._Lord_," Hermione continued, - _probably shouldn't push her by saying 'Voldemort' just yet -_, "...he just hides away in the master bedroom with his pet snake all day when there are Mudbloods to be killed?"

Bellatrix gave a low snarl as she brandished her walnut wand, "Where the Dark Lord is currently residing is none of your filthy business. And if you're planning some pathetic escape attempt - I can assure you quite readily that there is no way you can get even close to his presence - your tainted blood would not allow it."

_Bingo._

_The Malfoy Private Library._

Hermione had tried to access the library several months earlier - _Merlin, has it really been that long?_ - and her blood status had prevented her from doing so. Lucius' obsession with blood purity allowed for only Pure-bloods to enter the area.

_That was almost too easy._

_Ok, Bellatrix - it's show time._

And at that very moment, Bellatrix raised her ward towards Hermione's chest - preparing to cast Merlin knows what curse - as Hermione interrupted her.

"You know that your Lord said I was the most gifted witch he had ever seen," Hermione said at once - receiving a murderous stare from the crazed woman that hovered over her, "I'm assuming that you are included in that category."

"Insolent Mudblood!" Bellatrix spat as she slapped Hermione squarely across the face.

Hermione looked up as she shakily wiped the blood from her lip with her shoulder, "Did you hear?" She continued with a slight tremble, "That I can do wandless magic? Even your Lord cannot claim to such a talent. Obviously, you wouldn't be able to either."

Bellatrix - face full of rage - bent over Hermione and gripped her hair fiercely as she yanked it upwards, "I may not be able to kill you Mudblood, but I will make you beg for death in a way that you cannot even begin to imagine. You've heard of the Longbottoms, I assume," she spat triumphantly - causing Hermione's blood to run cold, "Their fate will be a fairy tale ending compared to what I have in store for you."

"Then prove you are a better witch than I am," Hermione said confidently as she held up her wrists, "Prove that you are your Lord's most talented servant. Release my cords and prove once and for all that you can truly beat a worthless, pathetic Mudblood."

Bellatrix raised a dark eyebrow but said nothing - still retaining her grip on Hermione's hair.

"You are better than a Mudblood, aren't you?"

Bellatrix's eyes danced with madness, "Of course I am," she said, darkly.

"Then prove it," Hermione pushed as she held her arms out, once again. "I won't even have a wand."

Bellatrix continued to eye Hermione warily, as she trembled beneath the intimidating witch. Hermione wasn't even sure she could stand at the moment - let alone take on Bellatrix in a full-out duel. From what Hermione had seen at the Ministry of Magic - and the tales she had heard from Harry and others that were members of the Order of the Phoenix; Bellatrix was an extremely proficient witch - undeniably intelligent, and nearly impossible to disarm in battle.

Sirius' death was evidence enough of her prowess.

But all Hermione needed to do was survive a few seconds - and then it wouldn't matter what Bellatrix did to her.

Smiling sickly, Bellatrix released her hold on Hermione's hair as she slowly stepped back a few paces.

"You are no match for me, Mudblood."

And then - with a small wave of her wand - Hermione's bindings fell heavily to the stone floor.

Immediately, Hermione conjured her Patronus - nonverbally - and then spoke so rapidly, she wondered if she would be able to be understood at all.

"Draco! I'm in Malfoy Manor - in the dungeon. Voldemort is with Nagini in the private library."

And with a flick of her swollen wrist - the furious otter soared through the makeshift doorway - and out of the Manor.

A bright purple curse flew straight at Hermione's chest - and she only managed to move away just in time - a millisecond later - and it would have hit her. Rolling painfully to the side, Hermione raised her right hand toward the door - muttered a charm - and locked whatever passageway there was that would enable Bellatrix to run back to Voldemort.

Bellatrix looked livid - but composed herself momentarily as she addressed Hermione's trembling form, " Gryffindor foolishness is not to be confused for bravery. You wish to lock yourself in here with me? To be at my mercy?"

Hermione slowly shook her head, "Not particularly," she replied wearily, "But I'd rather endure your presence that have you running off to Voldemort to tell him what I just did. And I'd wager," Hermione added with a slight grin, "That you are not capable of producing a Patronus."

Bellatrix screamed with rage as every curse possible - save the killing curse - flew directly at Hermione.

* * *

Draco frowned as he surveyed the forest perimeter along the edge of Malfoy Manor. 

Twenty meters to his left, Snape was concealed somewhere within the foliage. To his right - Alastor Moody, Harry Potter, and Nymphadora Tonks were awaiting for the signal from Remus.

And slightly behind him - hidden surreptitiously in the forest - was the entire Order of the Phoenix.

Draco's heart pounded furiously in the cool night as the mist from his breath permeated his still surroundings.

Coming up stealthily on his right, Remus Lupin crouched down beside Draco - panting heavily.

"Everyone is in position," he informed Draco, "There were two Death Eaters standing guard in the eastern fields - but Hagrid and Bill dispatched of them quiet easily."

Draco nodded as he absentmindedly fingered the Basilisk fang in his cloak.

"We have the element of surprise on our side," Remus continued, "We have to use that to our advantage. I want to make sure that Voldemort knows that Harry is here - that way he won't immediately disapparate once we attack. You're going to have to move quickly, Draco - and find Nagini before anything else can happen."

"I understand," Draco said solemnly - though his thoughts were on Hermione.

"I know you must be wanting to immediately search for Hermione," Remus pressed - eerily on topic, "...I can't even begin to imagine what I would be thinking if it were Dora that were in there..." he trailed off - his voice sounding pained, "But I promise you, Draco..."

"We'll get Hermione out of there."

Draco turned so that he was looking directly at Remus.

"Thank you."

Remus nodded as he made to move into position - to signal the Order for the coming attack.

But as Remus stood - to Draco's utter astonishment - Hermione's silver otter flew from the Manor and danced urgently around Draco's crouched form and spoke in Hermione's strained voice.

"Draco! I'm in Malfoy Manor - in the dungeon. Voldemort is with Nagini in the private library."

As Hermione's otter evaporated into a silvery mist - Draco's heart thudded loudly against his chest.

The dungeon.

He had to get to her - she was there - waiting for him to come...he _had_ to get to her.

But as he stood to run through the clearing - the Basilisk fang bumped against his side from inside his cloak - and he stopped, mid-stride.

_Nagini._

_Dammit._

Draco could not ignore Hermione's sacrifice.

And by rushing straight into the Manor - wand blazing and robes billowing down to the dungeon to rescue her - he would be doing just that. And Hermione would have gone through everything that she had - for nothing.

It would be all for nothing.

So, turning back to the forest and grabbing Remus by the collar - Draco's eyes flashed furiously.

"You get to that dungeon and get her out of there. Swear to me! Promise me that you will!"

Remus' gentle blue eyes remained calm, "I swear to you, Draco." He responded quietly, "I will get her out alive."

Draco's eyes expressed a relief in a manner that words could not.

He nodded slightly, and then Remus raised his wand to the air to signal the Order with red sparks.

_"Periculum!"_

And then the Order of the Phoenix moved in for the attack.

* * *

_Sorry about all the cliffhanger endings - but I'll be honest...I can't really think of any other way to end a chapter. But I do promise that I'll be trying to update ASAP! Reviews ALWAYS motivate me to update more quickly!! (Hey, I've said it before - but hopefully someone will catch my drift.) Thanks for all the reviews so far! _

* * *


	19. Chapter 19

_"Courage is being scared to death - and saddling up anyway."_

-John Wayne

* * *

Draco clutched the Basilisk fang as though his very life depended upon it. 

Approaching the east side of the place he had once called home - he wasn't quite sure how he had gotten to the Manor so quickly. The moment Remus' red sparks had exploded into the cool night air above him - his legs had taken off - while his mind lingered.

But there he crouched - breathing heavily - as the Order of the Phoenix closed in on the Manor from all sides.

A slight pressure on his shoulder caused Draco to whirl around - staring directly into the looming form of Severus Snape.

Snape quietly crouched down beside Draco and firmly took the younger man's face with his trembling hands. Staring with fathomless ebony eyes - he found his voice at last.

"Draco...son," he whispered, as his eyes locked firmly with steely gray ones, "Whatever happens in there - you get to Nagini. You do whatever it takes - whatever you have to do - and kill the snake. Everything else is obsolete," he said solemnly. "There is no doubt in my mind that you can do this," Snape pressed on as his voice filled with emotion, "I am so very proud of the man you have become..."

"Now go," he ordered - blinking back tears.

Snape stood and brandished his wand in one fluid movement.

"Go and be the hero you were born to be."

Draco swallowed heavily as he looked down at his hands, "You were the father I never had," he whispered, quietly.

And then he met Snape's eyes, "Get Hermione out. I will take care of Nagini - but please..."

"I will make sure she gets out safely, Draco," Snape interrupted, "That is my promise to you."

Draco slowly stood as he pocked the Basilisk fang - regarding Snape solemnly. A mutual understanding passed between the two men as Draco turned to face a Gothic stained glass window. With a quick glance and smirk in Snape's direction, Draco brandished his wand and pointed it at the window.

_"REDUCTO!!"_

Instantly, the window shattered - sending millions of shards of glass flying in every direction.

Draco and Snape jumped through the newly created opening and into a frightening silence.

It was pitch black, but Draco knew that they were in the massive space that was once the grand ballroom of Malfoy Manor.

The entire area was strangely silent. No Death Eaters nor curses greeted either of them as Draco's boots echoed loudly across the hardwood floors with each tentative step he took.

_"Lumos!"_ He muttered quietly - casting an ominous glow over the once impressive room.

The lack of Death Eaters or any other type of pandemonium was infinitely more unnerving than if they had walked into an outright attack, Draco realized. The Manor had long ago taken on the appearance of a "haunted house", but knowing that there were real terrors within the walls - Voldemort, for one - made the dark, empty room infinitely more frightening.

A muffled explosion in the distance caused Draco to whirl around to the south entrance of the ballroom.

"The Order?" Draco questioned as he held his wand out in front of himself.

"There's no way to tell - and we can't assume," Snape replied levelly as he made to the opposite direction of the ballroom. Draco followed quickly in his wake - his footsteps sounding loudly over the wooden floors as he reached into his cloak and nervously fingered the Basilisk fang.

But suddenly - it sounded as though there were another set of footsteps behind him.

Freezing on the spot, Draco whirled around and shone his wand behind him.

Nothing.

Snape, too, had stopped to listen for the footsteps.

Heart pounding in his chest, Draco turned and made his way over to Snape - who was continuing to the large intricate doors that led into one of the many drawing rooms in the manor.

And again, footsteps sounded behind Draco - though they were closer together in rhythm - quickly making their way across the massive room.

As Draco again turned to confront the sound, a jet of green light lit up the entire expanse of the area - reveling the form of a masked Death Eater, as Snape and Draco both dropped roughly to the ground to avoid the imminent collision.

After the killing curse passed, Snape was on his feet in a heartbeat - retaliating with fiery curses of his own.

"Go! Draco, go! Get out of here!" Snape yelled as he shot a nasty looking purple curse at the masked Death Eater.

Hesitating for only a second - _I must find Nagini_ - Draco turned on the spot and headed for the north exit of the ballroom that lead through the drawing room of the main hallway and eventually - the stairs to the second level of the manor.

Just as Draco reached the tall door frame, the hinges of the doors burst open - imploding in on themselves - as several Death Eaters burst through the entrance, causing Draco to cover his face to protect himself from the shrapnel.

A bright red curse flew directly at Draco the moment he uncovered his face.

Deftly, he flourished his wand.

_"Protego!"_

The curse rebounded loudly off Draco's powerful shield as he steadied himself and prepared to go on the offensive.

_"Stupefy!"_

_"Immobulus!"_

_"Petrificus Totalus!"_

Two of the Death Eaters fell heavily to the floor while the two remaining figures dodged Draco's curses and jumped easily over the fallen bodies.

A bright curse that skimmed his shoulder by inches slammed violently into one of the approaching Death Eaters caused Draco to whirl around.

Snape - a formidable sight in his own right - was storming over to where Draco stood, black robes billowing, wand drawn, and shouting incoherently at at the lone remainding Death Eater.

"Draco! Go! There is no time! You mustn't stop for anything!" Snape shouted as he easily stunned the last standing masked man. "When you go out these doors," Snape said as he approached - panting heavily, "Make for the staircase. I will cover you as best I can."

Draco nodded as he weaved in and out of the rubble to exit the room. The moment he and Snape crossed the drawing room and rounded the corner, Draco checked himself mid-stride - for the high arched entryway of Malfoy Manor was in complete chaos.

Several indistinguishable Death Eaters were battling fiercely with members of the Order of the Phoenix. At the forefront stood Harry - who was screaming with a demented rage - loud enough for Voldemort to hear him so as not disapperate.

"Tom?" Harry shouted loudly over a blasting curse, "Are you going to come out and fight like a man? I'm here Tom! Are you ready to prove once and for all that I am not only 'The Boy who Lived', but the man who defeated the pathetic Tom Riddle?"

Draco looked to the stairwell that led to the second level, but Voldemort was no where to be seen - presumable still hiding within the confines of the private library.

A yellow curse narrowly skimmed over the top of his head and brought Draco out of his reverie. Tonks and Ginny Weasley were fighting a heroic two against four duel - and across the room, the most unusual fighting duo Draco was sure he had ever seen assembled, stood Fred - or possibly George - Weasley, back to back with Minerva McGonagall, firing off rapid stunning spells as Moody and Remus attempted to pick the scattered Death Eaters off from the flank.

Shaking his head, Draco burst into motion as he sprinted to the stairwell that led to the second floor - to Voldemort, and to Nagini. Like a powerful surge of wind, Draco felt a curse coming directly at him from behind, and he barely dropped to the floor in time as a forceful hex sounded loudly above him - exploding in a deafening burst on the wall - just missing where his head would have been seconds later.

Scrambling to his feet, Draco pressed forward to the staircase - firing off a few stunners in the process. When his hand finally grabbed onto the iron railing, he launched himself up the stairs - two, no, three at a time - until he reached the second level of the Manor. Panting heavily as he finally reached the top, Draco shot a curse at an unsuspecting Death Eater whose back was turned, as he fell heavily to the marble floor.

Passing the painting of his father riding a white stallion, Draco hurled himself through the second floor parlor room and turned east down the long, narrow hallway that led to the private library.

Two Death Eaters were eagerly awaiting the arrival of an opponent and the moment Draco was within firing range, one shot off a deadly curse - the likes of which Draco hadn't seen since his encounter with Harry Potter during his sixth year at Hogwarts.

_"Sectumsempra!"_

The full brunt of the curse missed Draco, but the narrow space of the hallway left little room to maneuver, and Draco's upper arm received a large, painful gash.

Hissing inwardly, Draco grasped his arm as he looked up with anger at the two masked men.

"Little Malfoy?" A familiar voice asked in awe. "Everyone thought you were long gone! Why Lucius claimed you to be dead! But here you are - and fighting with _them?_" He spat with vehemence.

"Macnair," Draco hissed with realization. "I see you still have your orders - haven't advanced in his ranks as quickly as you had anticipated, ehe? That's a bloody shame, but really, you won't have to dwell on it much longer. The Order will destroy the rest of the Death Eaters and _Voldemort_ will be no more," Draco concluded as he said the Dark Lord's name for the first time in his existence.

"You dare speak his name!" Macnair screamed as he launched another curse at Draco.

But Draco was ready, and he easily deflected the unfriendly spell. With an especially complicated wand movement, two streaks of light emanated from Draco's wand - hitting the Death Eaters, and dropping their stiff bodies to the floor.

Stooping to pick up their wands, Draco deftly maneuvered around the fallen Death Eaters and briskly walked to the end of the hallway. Rubbing his trembling fingertips across the alabaster stone that marked the entrance to the library; Draco stepped back and held his breath.

Not two seconds later, a bold message appeared in crimson letters across the smooth stone.

YOUR BLOOD IS PURE. YOU MAY PASS.

A loud crack resounded throughout the second story of the Manor - revealing a darkened passageway in the form of a barrel vault. Clutching the Basilisk fang tightly, Draco stepped through the barrier that led to the Malfoy Private Library.

* * *

Hermione's eyes remained painfully closed. 

She wasn't entirely sure that she could open them on her own accord - even if she wanted to.

_Too weak._

She barely managed the strength that was required to lift her index finger off the ground.

_How can I not be dead?_

_Surely, death could not hurt this much. It's supposed to be a release - an eternal rest, right?_

But if death meant a pain free existence that was far from agony and torment - Hermione was quite sure in that moment that she had never been more alive.

Whimpering pathetically, she finally found the strength to open her eyes.

The sight that greeted Hermione made her wish that she had never attempted to even open them. For Bellatrix Lestrange was sitting on a regal chair she had conjured and was twirling her wand absentmindedly between her thumb and forefinger. Her thickly lidded eyes looked down at Hermione in disgust - though she appeared slightly bored by their recent encounter.

Hermione closed her eyes as a tear managed to escape through the tight barrier. Through the pain and the spasms of her trembling body, she felt completely drained and ashamed to the point of guilt.

The unthinkable had happened.

She had _begged_ for death.

Hermione Granger, true Gryffindor extraordinaire, had pleaded - begged - for Bellatrix to kill her.

But Hermione's pleadings only seemed to entice Bellatrix even further, and she continued her torturing without mercy.

Neville's parents had truly suffered a fate worse than death. For Hermione was still sane - but the agony that racked her body and caused her to shake and tremble was nearly unbearable.

"You must think yourself quite clever, Mudblood," Bellatrix spat - bringing Hermione painfully back to the present.

"All Gryffindors are the same," she continued, "You all think you're so brave and valiant and courageous. But you know what, Mudblood? Every single one of you beg and plead like the filthy dogs you are."

"At least," Hermione rasped, as she took the last reserves of her strength to speak, "We aren't slimy, traitorous snakes."

Bellatrix was on her feet in less than a second as she forcefully grasped Hermione's hair and pulled upwards with a surprising amount of force.

"What's that, Mudblood?" Bellatrix hissed quietly in Hermione's ear, "Care for another round?"

Hermione's breath hitched in her throat.

"No...please...no more."

Bellatrix smiled - quite please with herself. "That's what I thought."

And just as Bellatrix dropped Hermione unceremoniously to the cold stone floor, the temporary door imploded with the force of a small earthquake - creating a thick cloud of dust - and Severus Snape crossed the dismal threshold.

His ebony eyes fleetingly searched over Hermione's prone body before turning his full attention to Bellatrix.

"Snape," she spat with vehemence - though obviously surprised, "You bloody traitor! Serving those muggle loving fools! Denying the power of the Dark Lord! How dare you show your disgusting face!" She screamed, as her face distorted in madness. "You have betrayed my master...and you will pay dearly."

As Snape deftly drew his wand, he tossed - with his free hand, a small vial in Hermione's direction.

"Drink it and get out of here!" Snape shouted as he fired off a crimson streak of light in Bellatrix's direction, "The effects will not last long!"

Hermione's efforts to crawl to the vial seemed to be in slow motion - like something out of a bad dream. Slowly - agonizingly - she pulled herself through the coarse hay to the spot where Snape had tossed her temporary salvation.

Above Hermione, a display of light was soaring in every direction - rebounding off the thick walls of her prison - which narrowly missed her twice.

As her shaking hands finally grasped the vial, Hermione uncorked the tiny lid and downed the florescent blue contents.

The effect was instantaneous.

Her aching muscles stopped throbbing, the spasms ceased, and the renewed determination to live came like the joy of the first snowfall - with complete awe and purpose.

Jumping to her feet with surprising strength, Hermione dodged a stray curse of Snape's as she hurled herself to into the corner of the dungeon.

"Hermione!" Snape yelled as he blocked a powerful stunner from Bellatrix, "Move! Get out of the manor and hide yourself in the forest! You won't have much time - that potion can only reverse the after effects of the Cruciatus for so long!"

With a great effort of his trembling forearm, Snape threw Bellatrix's own curse straight back at her. Her dark eyes widened as she jumped out of the way and the curse hit the far wall - creating a great crater in the substructure.

"But..." Hermione hesitated as her voice wavered - looking back and forth between Bellatrix and Snape as a deep crease crossed her dirty forehead.

"You must go! Hermione..." he trailed off as his eyes briefly locked with Hermione's.

But time must have slowed down, Hermione realized. Because surely, Snape would not be able to look at her in that way and convey the emotions behind the depths of his black fathomless eyes and speak to her without having Bellatrix hex him while his back was turned.

"I promised Draco I would get you out. Do not make me break that promise," he said softly, and then added as his eyes briefly watered, "Please."

Hermione nodded as she swallowed thickly - making for the make shift entrance to the dungeon.

"Severus...I..."

Snape's sallow face twitched into a small smile, "I know."

And Hermione left the dungeon.

As Hermione scaled the dark stairs that led from the dungeon, she realized two things. First - she was already winded. Snape's potion freed her from the physical pain of the Cruciatus, but it obviously did nothing for fatigue. Secondly - and on a more disturbing level - she had no wand. Drained as she was - _I can't even walk up the bloody stairs_ - Hermione knew that there was no chance she could perform even the simplest charm without a wand.

She could hide and wait out the battle in the stairwell.

Yes, that was an option.

She could run up the remainder of the stairs and bolt for the entry door and hide in the forest.

Certainly, she could do that.

But Hermione Granger was placed in Gryffindor house for a reason, and Hell was more likely to freeze over before either one of those scenarios occurred. Steeling herself for a brief moment, Hermione took a deep breath and scaled the remainder of the steps and peaked out into the parlor.

Chaos reigned.

Death Eaters were everywhere - but the Order of the Phoenix was retaliating beautifully.

Bill Weasley was fighting off three different masked Death Eaters in succession - resulting in an extremely large vase shattering to the floor; Kinglsey and Luna Lovegood were fighting back to back; Neville Longbottom, Author Weasley, and Oliver Wood were having a go at Crabbe senior and another masked Death Eater, and Remus Lupin stood at the forefront of it all - blasting a Death Eater with such force that his opponent was launched off the ground before colliding with an ornate golden globe in the center of the room.

Not ten feet from where Hermione stood, a fallen Death Eater lay spread eagle on the granite floor. Mere inches from his fingers - lay his wand.

Hermione didn't even have time to think - her legs had already started moving. A moment later she was bent over the fallen figure, clutching her newfound weapon, and looking up into the towering form of a masked man.

_"STUPEFY!"_

The strange wand didn't have the same effect as her own did, but the result was enough. The Death Eater fell to the ground from where he stood.

"Hermione?" Minerva McGonagall asked with both surprise and relief. "How did you - "

But a thunderous explosion from the adjacent room muffled the rest of her words. McGonagall turned to look for the source of the commotion, while Hermione whirled around from the direction she had come, and made to descend to the dungeon to help Snape.

As Hermione approached the corridor that led to the descending stairwell, a jet of purple light shot directly to where she was heading, and erupted with an trembling aftershock that the passageway to the dungeons caved in on itself.

"No!" Hermione screamed.

_"Wingardium Leviosa!"_ She shouted as she began to frantically remove the rubble.

"Hermione?" Ginny questioned with delight as she appeared around a nearby corner, "You're okay! Harry said that - "

But an other unearthly sound resonated throughout the manor, and Hermione and Ginny both stopped to look to the high vaulted ceiling.

"Voldemort," Hermione whispered.

"What are you doing? Where have you been? How did you escape?" Ginny fired off as Hermione returned to levitating the rubble.

"Snape's down there with Bellatrix Lestrange and I have to help - "

But two Death Eaters materialized out of nowhere and instantly began attacking the two women - leaving Hermione to momentarily forget about Snape.

_"Immobulous!"_ Ginny shouted as her Death Eater froze on the spot.

_"Expelliarmus!"_ Hermione yelled as she won herself another wand.

Pocketing the new weapon, her Death Eater took off and into the chaotic crowd.

And every time Hermione set about to remove the rubble to return and aid Snape in the dungeons, another Death Eater or creature - for giant spiders were having full reign in the kitchen - attacked, and Hermione was forced to fight and eventually was removed far away from the dungeon as she dueled her way over to the door that led to the main entryway.

The entryway was even more chaotic than the parlor had been. With a slight flutter of her heart, Hermione saw Harry battling fiercely with Yaxley and the Carrows on the stairway that led to the second floor and the private library. Harry appeared to have the advantage - though he was unfairly outnumbered. Standing three or four steps above the attacking Death Eaters, Harry's face was set and hard as he fired off a powerful stunner and Yaxley seemed to be looking for the opportune moment to flee without being jinxed.

But suddenly, Harry seemed to slip and lose his footing. Both of the Carrows shrieked greedily as they made to curse Harry (or likely worse), as he tried to regain his footing.

Running with all the strength she could muster, Hermione bolted through the entryway with her wand raised and shouted loudly as she pointed it at Harry's attackers.

"STUEPFY!"

The Carrows instantly froze and then tumbled back on one another as both of their stiff bodies rolled down the remainder of the stairs and into a retreating Yaxley.

Harry looked around for the source of his salvation and when he saw Hermione running towards him, his eyes lit up like a dazzling morning sunrise.

"Hermione!" He cried with relief and worry as he descended the stairs at a rapid pace. "You're all right? But how can you be out here running...I don't understand..." he trailed off as he finally collided with her outstretched arms on the base of the stairs.

Hermione breathed him in deeply for a moment and closed her eyes. Then, steeling herself, she pulled away from his embrace and locked onto his emerald eyes.

"There's no time to explain. Snape gave me a potion - which reminds me! Oh, Harry! He's in the dungeon with Bellatrix!" Hermione cried frantically.

Remus, who had just made his way over to the pair, heard the last part of the conversation. "Severus is trapped in the dungeon with Bellatrix?"

With Hermione's nod of approval, he surveyed their surroundings warily. "Harry, I will go after Severus. You need to get to Voldemort."

Harry looked slightly uncertain, but with a hesitant nod - Remus was off.

Another loud blast shook the foundations of the manor, creating a thin layer of dust that fell from the high ceiling. Whether from a powerful curse, or some other dark creature - Hermione wasn't sure.

"Hermione - " Harry started as he began to ascend the stairs.

"Harry," Hermione interrupted, "Where is Draco? Is he okay?"

Harry paused momentarily as he turned to look at Hermione from two steps up. "He's...he was the one that made the decision to take care of Nagini."

Hermione's sorrel eyes widened as the realization of Harry's words hit her fully. Fingering the spare wand in her tattered cloak, she jumped up the stairs after Harry.

"Hermione, no." Harry said kindly - but forcefully. "You need to get out of here. I know that you're injured - I saw Voldemort torturing you. You've done more than your part. Now get out while you still can."

"Don't you dare give me that speech, Harry Potter!" Hermione replied with rage in her trembling voice. "Don't you dare. I told you, many years ago, that I would be with you until the very end. Ron held up his part of the bargain - and now I'm holding up mine. And don't look at me like that, Harry. It was all decided years ago."

Harry looked as though he wasn't quite sure if he should embrace Hermione or tie her to a chair.

"And plus," Hermione added as she scaled a few more steps so that they were exactly eye level, "Draco is up there...and there's something you should know, Harry..."

With Harry's puzzled expression, Hermione gave a glorious smile.

"I'm in love with Draco Malfoy."

* * *

Draco found himself, once again, standing in the presence of Lord Voldemort. 

He remembered the first time he had been brought before the Dark Lord in his fourth year of school.

At the time, he was completely and utterly terrified.

The current sensation he was feeling, however, was not too far off base from that memory.

And yet, as he stood before the snake-like figure of Voldemort, Draco realized that his memories had been dulled over the years. To stand in the presence of Lord Voldemort was unlike any other sensation in the entire world. The fear was simply overwhelming. And his eyes - Voldemort's eyes - were so much more scarlet in real life that they had ever replayed in any of his nightmares. They were knowing, penetrating, and more intimidating than any sight he could recall.

"Draco Malfoy," Voldemort rasped as he stood from an ornate leather chair by a dimly lit fireplace. Nagini, Draco saw out of the corner of his peripheral vision, was coiling around the legs of the chair, knotting itself into something infinitely more complex than a square knot.

Without realizing it, Draco felt for the Basilisk fang within his cloak, and ran his fingertips over the ivory surface.

_But how to get to the snake?_

Voldemort would surely curse him the moment he even thought about leaping the short distance to the creature - and then...could it be possible? Was Voldemort reading his very thoughts right now?

But Voldemort made no attempt to move or address Draco in any further way. He stayed rooted to the Persian rug that adorned the stone floor and held the leather chair, without so much as blinking.

Glancing quickly around, Draco saw that the private library was in the very same shape that he had left it nearly a year before. Three grand bookshelves staggered towards the far wall - full of Merlin knows what kinds of Dark books.

"I know why you have come," Voldemort hissed in a high voice - bringing Draco's full attention back to the monster in front of him and his seemingly insurmountable task. "You have come to kill my snake, Draco."

At Draco's widened eyes, Voldemort continued - taking painstakingly small steps to where Draco stood. "You have a Basilisk fang with you, don't you? Yes, I can see that very clearly in your mind. You want it, don't you? To kill my snake...and here I thought that you would one day become my most loyal follower."

Draco said nothing, but stood his ground as Voldemort drew closer.

"I confess myself...disappointed," Voldemort said with such finality that Draco had to suppress a small shudder from traveling down the length of his spine. "But what could have brought about this change - your seemingly new views?"

"You're a hypocrite," Draco said quietly - but firmly, after a sharp moment of silence.

At Voldemort's raised brow, Draco continued - clutching the Basilisk fang until his knuckles were as white as the object itself, "My father was so obsessed with that damn blood purity that he never took the time to realize that the very thing he worshiped - you - were merely a half-blood yourself."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed and he paused a moment before speaking again. During the pause, Draco felt a strange tingling sensation in his mind - making him momentarily light headed. After a few seconds, the sensation passed, and Voldemort looked up with a frightening smile.

"Well, it certainly appears that you've chosen to go to the entire opposite end of the spectrum, doesn't it, Draco?"

When Draco said nothing, Voldemort pressed on, "The Mudblood Granger!" He scoffed, "Your mind betrays you...I know that you _love_ her."

And he spat the word 'love' with such disgust and vehemence that his tone sounded as if he had just uttered the most cruel and vile of swear words.

"You leave her out of this," Draco said deeply - angrily.

"Ha! But how can I? She is more involved than you know, Draco! At this very moment she lies in the dungeon with my most faithful and trusted follower - your dear aunt - and she has been tortured nearly to the point of insanity. What do you say to that, little Malfoy?"

Draco's mind was spinning.

_Take care of the snake, then get to Hermione._

But how could he ignore that?

Bellatrix was slightly mad - as everyone knew. And when Voldemort had been displeased with anyone in the past - he had sent them straight away to Bellatrix to be tortured. For no one loved to play with their food before eating it like she did. It was some perverse, disturbing desire that even the most seasoned Death Eaters would look away from.

And Hermione had been submitted to it.

Shaking slightly, a new rage boiled within Draco that was visibly evident.

"What's the matter, Draco?" Voldemort hissed as he stopped a short distance from where Draco stood. "Does it bother you when I speak of your Mudblood like that? Well, at least you have good taste in Mudbloods. She is a fiery, beautiful witch...I could have taken her right there in the dungeon - "

"SECTUMSEMPRA!" Draco screamed as his emotions boiled over.

Voldemort appeared surprised, but deflected the curse just the same.

And just as the words of the killing curse were on the tip of Voldemort's forked tongue, a loud rumble sounded within the library, the secret passageway opened, and Harry Potter burst into the room - followed closely by a slightly worse-for-wear, Hermione.

Draco whirled around and immediately locked eyes with Hermione.

She looked dead on her feet - wrists swollen and bloodied, a deep gash on her cheek and forehead, and dried blood adorning her bare arms that came from Merlin knew where.

But she was there.

And she was alive.

And though Draco could not understand how she was moving around or how she escaped from Bellatrix's clutches, the sight of her alive and in the flesh tasted like the joy of Christmas morning.

Her body was worn and weary, but there was an undeniable fire in her sorrel eyes.

"Hello, Tom." Harry whispered - causing Draco to turn back around and eye Voldemort.

Voldemort's eyes were narrowed - his new focus upon Harry.

Draco could have been doing an elaborate waltz and he was quite confident that Voldemort wouldn't have taken notice. The hatred Voldemort felt for Harry was clearly palpable - it rolled off him in relentless waves.

All he had eyes for was 'The Boy Who Lived'.

_This is my chance._

Taking a deep breath, Draco closed his eyes and thought of Hermione standing not a few feet behind him.

And with the slight twitch of his left hand, Draco bolted to the leather chair.

Voldemort must have turned around because he heard Hermione scream.

As he braced himself for the inevitable curse, Draco closed the distance to the snake and plunged the Basilisk fang into the base of Nagini's skull.

A slight moment of silence - and then Voldemort screamed.

* * *

_So, so, so sorry for the delay on getting this chapter up. I've been on the flip side and I know how frustrating it can be when you're waiting for the next chapter of a story...so I apologize profusely. :) I'll be perfectly honest - this was (without a doubt), the most difficult chapter to write thus far. I struggled with the action sequences immensely - so comments there would be much appreciated. Please be kind in your constructive criticism! Hopefully, I'll be able to get the next chapter up before Christmas. Thanks for the kind reviews! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone!_


	20. Chapter 20

_"The courses of true love never did run smooth."_

_-William Shakespeare _

* * *

Draco looked up from the dead snake and into Voldemort's scarlet eyes. 

And strangely enough, something else caught his attention.

Beyond Voldemort's murderous face stood Hermione - clearly shaken, but frozen on the spot. A deer caught in headlights, she was so obviously taken off guard by Draco's rash decision that the action itself had shocked her into silence.

And in what he knew to be his final moments, Draco drank her in.

Her hands.

They were so much smaller than his own, but not dainty, no, certainly not dainty. Those hands had brewed far too many potions and participated in far too many herbology classes to be considered dainty. Draco remembered seeing a few small callouses on her palms at the base of each finger. And even with those callouses, her hands were surprisingly soft. The feeling of those hands on his bare back after the mishap of her first flying lesson was a sensation unlike any other. The very memory of it had caused his breath to catch.

Her hair.

So unruly - and yet nothing like that of their Hogwarts years. It had been greatly tamed, that much was obvious, but there were still an undisciplined wildness to it made Draco wish that he had had the chance to run his fingers through it once.

Only once.

And her eyes.

Sorrel, bright, and penetrating. There were individual strands that reflected gold in just the right lighting. So expressive, they were, that they hid nothing. Every doubt, disappointment, fear, joy, eagerness, surprise - every emotion - was clearly written in her eyes if one only took the time to search for it.

Oh yes, he would miss her eyes the most.

_To lose you now, only when I have just found you, oh , the cruel ironies of life. _

And so, when Voldemort flicked his wand with a movement that was almost too quick for Draco's optic nerve to transmit, a jet of green light erupting and heading straight for his heart, Draco was mildly unsurprised.

But out of the corner of his eye - he saw it.

In what could only be termed as slow motion, Hermione's eyes flashed over to Voldemort and then she deliberately hurled herself into the dark wizard's side - knocking them both off balance.

The killing curse missed Draco by inches.

And once again, Voldemort screamed a terrible, inhuman scream of rage and fury as he roughly untangled himself from beneath Hermione.

"Disgusting filth!" He shouted as he rose and trained his wand on Hermione's throat. Hermione fumbled with the Death Eater's wand to defend herself, but curses immediately soared from both sides of the room.

Draco was on his feet with a fury etched on his face that was unlike anything Hermione had ever seen, and Harry, his emerald eyes flashing dangerously, crossed the distance of the room in one fluid motion to where Voldemort stood.

Voldemort deflected both curses with ease and wordlessly cast a powerful curse in Harry's direction.

Harry dodged the deadly light, but the force of the curse hit the far back wall - causing a massive explosion that blew entirely through to the outside of the manor - revealing a blood red sky as the light from the pre-dawn sun prepared to rise for a new day.

"It's over, Tom." Harry said with surprising calm - his wand trained on Voldemort, "Your Horcruxes are destroyed."

His green eyes flashed with finality.

"It's just you and me."

Voldemort hissed inwardly as he looked around the library - the light from the rising sun resting on his scarlet eyes made them more frightening and distorted than ever.

"You are wrong, Potter. It is you and I and the Mudblood and the traitor," he said in a high-pitched voice as his crimson eyes darted from Harry to Hermione to Draco.

Harry nearly laughed, "What? Not a fair fight for you, Tom?" He scoffed, "And since when have _you_ ever fought fair? Your Horcruxes are tangible evidence of your cowardice - they made you virtually untouchable," Harry continued, taking another careful step toward Voldemort, "Of course - the exception being when a mere baby nearly destroyed you - "

_"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_ Voldemort screamed.

Harry dodged the curse and hurled one right back - their wands colliding with a resounding crack as they created an unsurpassed display of light and magic.

Still on the floor from her physical attack with Voldemort, Hermione raised her borrowed wand and pointed it directly at Voldemort - taking advantage of his current distraction with Harry.

_"Stuepfy!"_

The spell was frighteningly weak.

Voldemort threw off Harry's curse with a great effort and then easily deflected Hermione's stunner.

And suddenly, without warning, Hermione's knees began to tremble beneath her as her strength began to give way.

_Oh Merlin, please, no. Not here - not now._

Draco must have sensed her distress, because without blinking, he bolted toward Hermione's side of the room.

"Not so fast, traitor," Voldemort spat at Draco.

With frightening speed and precision, Voldemort disarmed Draco. And with a wand in each hand, he roughly grabbed Hermione by the nape of her hair and pointed one wand at her neck and the other out at Draco and Harry.

Draco stopped mid-stride as his gray eyes widened.

"No," he whispered.

"Let her go, Tom," Harry said forcefully between clenched teeth. "Leave her out of this."

Voldemort's lip curled back like a rabid dog, "I do not think so, Potter," he growled, "For you see, we are at a stalemate."

"She's got nothing to do with it!" Draco pleaded as his eyes widened even further with desperation.

Voldemort gave a chilling laugh, "Ah, my young traitor, you are so unwise," he hissed, "Because you see - she has _everything _to do with it."

And beneath Voldemort's grasp, Hermione's knees buckled.

With a sharp intake of breath, Hermione realized that Snape had been right. The contents of the vial only lasted briefly - just long enough to give her the strength it would have taken to run and get out of the manor.

But Hermione had stayed, damned Gryffindor courage and all.

And now the slight trembling was gradually returning to her body. Her hands - the very hands that had steadily flourished the Death Eater's wand now shook visibly as she struggled to free herself from Voldemort's grasp.

_Just kill me , you slimy bastard. And then Harry and Draco will make you wish that you never did. But you'll be gone forever - of that I am certain._

"Let her go, Tom," Harry said again - his voice cutting sharply into the tangible silence, "Let her go and you have my word that we'll finish this as the Prophecy stated - with just you and me."

"Sorry, Potter," Voldemort hissed, "But your word means absolutely nothing to me." And he jabbed his wand further into Hermione's throat, eliciting a sharp gasp.

Draco appeared to be physically restraining himself from launching himself at the dark wizard as his eyes darted rapidly back and forth between Voldemort and Hermione.

"I swear it," Harry said darkly, slightly lowering his wand.

"No deal, Potter," Voldemort replied. And then he drew Hermione closer to him and whispered menacingly into her ear as his snake-like eyes remained trained on Harry.

"Disgusting Mudblood," he whispered, "You could have been great, you know. You could have had everything. But you will still serve some purpose for me - oh yes, there is still a use for you," he continued, as Hermione's heart began to pound frantically in her chest, "You see, Mudblood, I will use you to break them - and then Potter will be mine - and your traitorous lover - dead."

"No," Hermione whispered - her strength nearly gone.

Voldemort's lip curled back disgustingly as he whispered - this time his eyes locked on Draco, _"Crucio."_

"NO!" Draco screamed as he threw himself at Voldemort - his voice nearly hysterical, "Hermione!"

As Draco bolted across the room towards Hermione, Voldemort smiled a revolting, distorted smile - clearly pleased that he had achieved the desired effect. And all too quickly, the torture curse was released on Hermione and a bolt of green was heading directly at Draco's running form.

"No!"

This time the voice was Harry's, and Harry hurtled from out of nowhere to shove Draco away from his second encounter with the killing curse in a single night. They both landed in a heap on the ground, Harry's wand clattering loudly as it fell free of his hand.

Voldemort drew himself up to his full height as he unceremoniously dropped Hermione's shaking body to the floor. In what seemed to be the blink of an eye, he hovered over Draco and Harry's prone forms and raised his wand.

"The Boy-Who-Lived," he mocked, as Harry's green eyes darted between Voldemort's sinister face to where his wand lay on the ground - only a few feet away.

"Farewell, Potter. My regards to your parents."

And then it happened.

Harry was somehow thrown to his feet as a huge creature materialized beside him and blocked his line of sight with Voldemort.

The creature was a dragon.

And that dragon was Draco Malfoy.

The shear mass of the beast was incredible and Harry felt certain that if Draco were to spread his wings fully that the entire library would cave in on itself. As it was, a great burst of flames erupted from Draco's throat and Voldemort - clearly surprised by the sudden change of events, dove to the side to avoid the burning fury of the fire.

Harry darted to his right to retrieve his wand and suddenly the room was _too _hot. Glancing over at the fallen form of Hermione, Harry made to rush to her side when Draco abruptly flung Voldemort from the opening in the sidewall and toward the barren field below.

It was a several story drop.

"Come on, Potter!" Draco's deep voice roared, "Get on my back! I'll fly you down there!"

Harry didn't need to be told twice and swiftly mounted Draco's back. Draco forced his massive body through the opening and dove the distance to the field below. The moment his claws dug into the cool earth, he turned his great head toward Harry.

"It's you now, Potter. It's always been you. I have to go make sure she's okay. I don't know - "

"Go," Harry cut in as he brandished his wand, "Go take care of Hermione. My destiny was prophesied long before I was born. It's supposed to be just him and me. Go help Hermione."

And without a backward glance, Draco took off - the rush of his beating winds ruffling Harry's unruly hair as Harry turned into the sunrise.

"Tom!" Harry shouted - the sun finally pushing itself over the horizon, "I know you're out here. It is time, Tom. The Prophecy will be fulfilled today. Show yourself!"

Silence.

The tall grass rolled slightly in the morning breeze as a symphony of crickets quieted themselves.

"You're a coward, Tom," Harry continued as he made his way through the long reeds - his green eyes searching for any sign of movement, "Come finish this like a man."

Again, silence.

"Your soul, Tom," Harry pressed, as he sifted his wand over a tall blade of grass, "...if you can even call it a soul, is a black withered thing without pity. One-seventh of its true self - has that little fraction of life left within you caused you to act so cowardly? Or maybe," Harry continued as he maneuvered around a large boulder, "...maybe it comes from your father's side of the family. Yes, Tom, you preach to the choir but you're quite the hypocrite, aren't you? All of those Purebloods worshiping you like some false idol when your own father was just a Muggle. Might be a bit disappointed when they find that bit out, don't you think?"

A few birds chirped in the distance.

"Are you afraid of me, Tom?" Harry goaded as his silently cast _Homenum Revelio_. The moment Harry cast the spell, he felt a presence to his near left - just beside the manor walls.

And then Harry found him.

Tom Riddle, the once feared Lord Voldemort, lay crumpled pathetically on the ground with a leg broken beneath him. His breathing was labored and his body nearly broken, but his scarlet eyes flashed dangerously at Harry as he searched pointlessly for his wand.

"Goodbye, Tom," Harry said darkly, stepping forward and casting a shadow over Voldemort.

And without a second glance, Harry raised his wand.

_"__Avada Kedavra,"_ Harry whispered.

And Lord Voldemort's crimson eyes flashed angrily for the last time.

* * *

Draco transformed the moment he returned to the library, and with panic assaulting every portion of his being - he ran to Hermione's fallen form. Her eyes were closed - her body still. 

"Hermione?" Draco whispered, taking her cold hands as he bent low and brought his lips to her ear, "Can you hear me?"

After several prolonged seconds and with a great shuddering breath, Hermione opened her eyes.

"Draco?" She croaked - her voice strained.

"Hermione," Draco murmured as he brought her hands to his mouth and kissed them both softly, "I...I..." he trailed off as his voice caught in his throat. Steadying himself for a moment, he closed his eyes and brought his forehead down so that it rested upon hers.

"What...what happened?" He dared to whisper.

Beneath him, Hermione slightly shook her head, "It doesn't matter. I gave as good as I received...I'll be okay."

Swallowing heavily as his bangs fell onto her dirty face, Draco whispered, "The Cruciatus?"

He felt her sharp intake of breath beneath him.

"Yes."

Draco winced as he methodically began to rub the area behind her ears, "Hermione..., I should have...," he breathed as he nearly lost control of himself, "I'm _so_ sorry...I tried - I really did, I..."

"Don't," Hermione said with as much force as her body could muster, "Don't do that to yourself. I'd be dead if it wasn't for you."

"And I, if it wasn't for you."

When Draco finally opened his eyes, he saw a small smile on Hermione's face.

_Merlin, even now, after all you've been through - you're stunning._

Remembering himself, Draco's cheeks reddened slightly, and he quickly looked over her body to scan for any additional injuries.

His brow furrowed when he noticed her eyes had closed again, "Anything else, Hermione?" He asked, gently, "Other injuries besides the Cruciatus?"

It took a moment for her eyes to open again.

"My side hurts a little - a cut, perhaps."

Draco nodded with worry as her eyes closed once more, "I'm just going to have a look at it, okay?"

Hermione nodded slightly, but did nothing more to acknowledge him.

Steeling himself, Draco brought his hands to Hermione's left side and with as much ease as he could - ripped a tear in her robes. Pulling the fabric apart, his fingers grazed, for the first time, her bare stomach.

She flinched at the touch.

"Sorry," Draco amended as he removed his hand, "I just need to see where the cut is."

"No," Hermione replied - as she opened her eyes, "Its just that you're hands are cold."

Something incomprehensible flashed over Draco's eyes in that moment, and he brought his hands to his mouth, cupped them, and exhaled his warm breath.

Hermione watched as Draco - his hands careful and precise, pulled back a portion of her robe where the tear was and gently place his fingers on her stomach. This time she was ready for the contact and his hands were warmer. His fingers traced down an inch from where he had started his inspection - causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. After a moment, they reached an area of the skin that dented in slightly.

Immediately his hand drew back with blood on his fingers.

"Merlin, Hermione," He breathed with panic, "We need to get you to St. Mungo's straight away."

"No," Hermione said as she lifted her head up. Immediately, she regretted that decision as a dizzying spell hit her with the force of a Bludger and she slumped back down to the cold floor.

_Ok, bad idea._

"Harry...," she began as she attempted to open her eyes again - the room spinning in small circles as a slight buzzing seemed to come out of nowhere.

"He's fine," Draco replied automatically - stooping to hoist Hermione into his arms.

"I'm going to pick you up now, okay? I'll try to do it as slowly and with as little movement as possible. Now if for some reason - "

"For Hell's sake, Draco. I'm not five," Hermione said with exasperation as a faint smile crossed her lips.

Her retort lifted his spirits considerably, and he bent down - placing one arm behind her back and the other, under her knees. In one swift motion, she was in his arms and he was looking down at her angelic face.

The spinning, Hermione realized with a sudden clarity, was much worse with her body off the level surface of the ground. A spotty blackness began to creep into the corners of her peripheral vision.

"Voldemort?" She asked as she fought the impending darkness.

"Shh...," Draco soothed as he began to walk - making the room spin even more quickly, "Just relax. Everything is going to be fine. I'm going to take care of you."

"Draco," Hermione whispered as she felt herself slipping into nothingness, "There's something you need to know."

Draco stopped walking at the caved in entrance to the private library. A level below, there was still muffled shouting and the occasional erratic explosion.

"What?"

"I love you."

Hermione's eyes rolled back in her head and her body slumped down before she had the chance to hear Draco whisper with more feeling and emotion than an Ex-Death Eater would ever be credited for, "Oh, Hermione, I have loved you to the point of madness."

* * *

_A/N: Hey all! So, so, so, so sorry for the delay on the update. The Holidays were insanely busy...and I had zero time to write. I don't anticipate a delay that long again. So, thank you for sticking with me! On another note, I have to give a HUGE shout out to Karmabur, my lovely new beta-reader, who is extremely talented at editing! THANK YOU, a thousand times over. _

_Also, on a fun note, I was up at the Sundance Film Festival over the weekend and ran into the lovely Alan Rickman (AKA Professor Snape). And I tell you what - if it wasn't him, then it was his long lost twin. I think the freezing Utah weather was effecting him a bit because he wore the same expression as he often does as Professor Snape in the films. Can't really blame the guy, though - don't think it gets that chilly in England, and I'm positive I looked about the same way._

_Please leave a review!! _


	21. Chapter 21

_"The best and most beautiful things in this world cannot be seen, nor touched...but are felt in the heart."_

-Helen Keller

* * *

When Hermione Granger slowly opened her eyes, she couldn't quite understand why it was still dark. 

_Where the hell am I?_

Closing her eyes and opening them again, she made the same discovery.

Darkness.

The muscles in her arms protested as she gingerly brought them too her face, softy batting at her eyes to make sure that they were, indeed, open.

_At least my eyes haven't been gouged out - that's always a plus._

Her slight movement caused a figure to stir beside her.

"Who's there?" Hermione asked, her voice raspy from lack of use.

The figure leaned closer and Hermione instinctively recoiled.

"Hermione?" A deep, gentle voice asked as a hand came to rest on her forehead.

"Draco," Hermione breathed in relief, closing her eyes. "What happened? Where am I? It's so dark...I can't see anything."

His hand caressed her forehead for a moment before he spoke, "You're in St. Mungo's. It's just past...two in the morning. You've been asleep for three days."

"Three days?" Hermione asked in disbelief, as she learned into his touch.

And suddenly, after a brief moment of silence, she bolted up erect in her bed.

"Hermione!" Draco cried as he stood, placing his arms on either side of her. "What - "

"Harry?" Hermione dared to whisper, "What happened - please, Draco, is he...is he alright?"

The side of the twin bed creaked as Draco's form sank down beside Hermione and pulled her gingerly into his arms.

"Harry's fine," he said softly, running his fingers through Hermione's tangled hair. "The Dark - err...Vol...demort," he corrected, finally daring to speak the dreaded name, "...is dead."

Hermione slowly pulled away from his embrace and looked up at Draco.

"I can't see your face."

She heard him rustle through his robes and a moment later, a dull light from the tip of his wand lit up the tiny hospital room.

Draco's face looked down at her, as handsome as Hermione had always remembered it to be. The strong, angular line of his jaw was set as his gaze rested carefully on her face. His gray eyes were intense, as always, but fatigue and worry were etched all along their outer contours.

"Voldemort's dead?" Hermione asked. "And Harry...Harry's okay?"

A small twitch of a smile graced Draco's lips as he nodded in the affirmative. "Yes. Potter's been here several times. He was...quite worried about you."

"He's dead," Hermione repeated, testing the sound of the words on her tongue, "Voldemort's dead. It's...it's finally over."

"Yes."

Hermione's hand reached up to Draco's face. An angry red burn adorned her wrist from Voldemort's cursed cords. She hesitated slightly - her fingers curling back for a brief moment, but she regained her courage, and her hand lightly rested on Draco's cheek.

"You're okay?" She asked as her eyes searched his.

His expression seemed almost exasperated, "Yes, I'm okay," he replied with an incredulous smile, bringing his own hand up to cover hers. "It's _you_ that I've been worried about."

Hermione blushed and rested her head on his chest, "So, what's the prognosis, doctor?"

She felt his hands tangle their way into her wild hair, "Plenty of rest - and no overexertion."

"I think I can manage that."

Draco chuckled, and her head moved with the rumbling in his chest, "That's doubtful. Why do you think I'm here, keeping guard? My duty is to physically restrain you from bolting out the door at any given moment to do...whatever it is that your brain would feel compelled to do now that Voldemort is defeated."

"And what would it be?" He asked aloud, as his hand ventured to her upper back, rubbing his fingers into methodical circles, "Write a thesis on what led to Voldemort's demise? Field research on the aftermath of so great an accomplishment? Or perhaps - "

"Geez," Hermione cut in, lifting her head so that their lips were a whisper's breath apart from each other, "...and I thought you were just here to see the invalid."

Draco allowed another light-hearted chuckle as he gazed down at her fondly, "Well, that too, I suppose. Not much gets past you."

"No," Hermione agreed, as her eyes flickered back and forth between Draco's lips and eyes, "Not much does."

"How," Draco asked carefully, as Hermione's lips edged closer, "...how are you feeling?"

"Well enough to do this," Hermione replied as she gently captured his lips.

The kiss was tender - delicate. Compared to their frantic snog in the rain, it was undeniably less fierce - but somehow, infinitely more intimate. Draco's lips were careful, precise. His hand managed to untangle itself from her hair and gently caressed her cheek as Hermione leaned in and deepened the kiss.

After a stolen moment, Hermione pulled back and looked into Draco's eyes. The make-shift light from his ebony wand - now carelessly discarded at the side of the bed, created a deep shadow across his face.

"I don't remember if it was a dream," Hermione began as she reached to tuck a strand of blond hair back behind his ear, "...or if it was real. But, I want you to know...that I lo -"

"It was real," Draco's deep baritone cut in. His hands reached to cup her face - his thumbs grazing her cheeks.

"It was real," he repeated.

It was barely a whisper.

"Because," he continued - his eyes searching Hermione's, "...I, myself, wondered if I had strayed into a dream."

"But when you said that...that you loved me, I had never felt so alive."

Hermione's lips parted into a magnificent smile. Her heart fluttered and she felt a freedom emerge within her that she could not recall having ever been inside her before. Finally, Voldemort was gone. Defeated. Never to return. That, alone, would have given any witch or wizard unbound elation. But to have found love - that obscure, but all encompassing emotion that so many speak of - but few truly find...now _that_, that was cause for extraordinary joy.

"Draco, I - "

"I love you, Hermione," he interrupted, his eyes blazing with emotion, "I know...I know that I have a dark past," he began, motioning for her to let him continue as she made to cut in, "...but that is not the person I am today. If.." he faltered for a moment, then met her fierce gaze, "...if I know what love is, it is because of you."

Hermione's mouth was open for a retort, no doubt on the comment regarding his past, but his ending statement startled her so greatly that she blinked at him in silence for several moments.

Just as she was about to speak, the door to her hospital room creaked open and a dark head poked its way in.

"Malfoy?" Harry Potter asked, "I thought I heard something...is everything okay? Is Hermione awake?"

"Harry?" Hermione asked, her voice laced with emotion.

Harry crossed the room with a few purposeful strides and then gently flung his arms around his best friend, while Draco took a few careful steps back.

"Hermione," Harry breathed into her hair, "Oh, Merlin, Hermione...you don't know how good it is to see you."

They embraced in silence for several moments, rocking gently back and forth under Hermione's muffled sobs until Harry finally pulled back.

"I have been _so_ worried about you," he whispered.

Hermione smiled and looked past Harry to Draco's standing form, "I'm fine. I'll be just fine."

"Malfoy hasn't left your side since he brought you here," Harry said, turning around slightly to make sure Draco was out of earshot, "...we were all so frightened that...that you wouldn't ever wake up."

Hermione smiled at Draco for a few moments before turning her attention back to Harry, "I just need some rest, is all. But you - Harry..." she trailed off and met his emerald eyes, "...I mean...it's done?"

He nodded in confirmation.

"Oh, Harry," she cried as she pulled him into another embrace, "You're finally free of everything - you can actually live your life now..."

"Yes," he whispered as he pulled back, "...and you..." he trailed off, glancing over his shoulder at Draco, who was standing quietly in the shadows, "...you can...go on with your life - in whatever way you choose..."

Hermione looked down at her swollen hands and fidgeted nervously with the hem of the white sheet on her bed, "Harry...when we were back at Malfoy Manor...and we were running up to the library..."

Harry regarded her quietly until she looked him fully in the face.

"I meant what I said about Draco."

Several moments of silence passed before Harry spoke.

"I know."

Hermione looked beyond Harry to see Draco shuffling his boots and looking up at her every few seconds.

"I just...Harry, I need your blessing - "

"Hermione, you've never needed my blessing. I'm not your - "

"Yes, I do, Harry," Hermione insisted. "You are the closest thing I've ever had to a brother. You should know by now that your approval at _anything_ I do means more to me than words could ever express."

Harry swallowed and his Adam's Apple bobbed for a moment.

"Hermione - you don't need to ask for my approval on this, because you already have it."

Hermione raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Hermione," Harry said, once again looking over his shoulder at a fidgeting Draco in the far corner, "Malfoy saved our lives that day. Because of him...I was able to kill Voldemort. We wouldn't have gotten out of there alive without him."

"Despite...everything, despite our past," he continued, "I cannot overlook the fact that he saved our lives. Whatever hatred is ingrained into our souls...that will surely fade with time."

Hermione regarded him warily.

"That...," Harry continued in a soft whisper, "...and the fact that he hasn't left your side since he carried you in here three days ago. I think he should go take a bath."

Now _that_ comment elicited a wide smile from Hermione.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered softly, "...thank you. You don't know how much that means."

Harry smiled softly and fidgeted with his glasses, "He'll never replace Ron - "

"I'm not trying to replace Ron, Harry," Hermione cut in. "I loved Ron like I never thought I could love a person. And we'll always have our memories of Ron - puking slugs, trying out for Quidditch, the time he actually attempted to put me on a broom...we'll never lose that. But Harry...I love Draco - in a way that almost makes me ache. The way I see you look at Ginny. You didn't want me to be alone forever, did you?"

"No," he immediately replied, "No...I never wanted that. It's just...it will be different to see you with someone besides Ron." Harry turned around to see Draco looking intently at them from the corner. "But know this, Hermione," Harry said as he turned back to her, "I would never let you be with someone who wasn't deserving of you. I think...I think that he has a lot of potential."

"He does. You just haven't seen it yet."

"Fair enough," he replied with a smirk worthy of Draco himself.

Hermione's eyes darted again back to Draco, and he took it as invitation cross the room. Harry stood from the side of the bed and took a step toward Draco. After a moment, he extended his hand and said with a smile, "Watch your back, Malfoy. I'm engaged to the woman who mastered the Bat-Boogey hex - and trust me...I'm a fast learner."

Draco smirked and took Harry's hand, "I'll consider myself warned. Through I trust you know that I've learned a thing or two since our little dueling club."

Harry grinned, "Whenever you're ready for a rematch - you let me know."

"Gladly."

Harry bent over and kissed Hermione on the crown of her head, "Get some rest, Hermione. I'll see you soon."

"See you soon, Harry," Hermione returned.

Harry crossed the room and closed the door shut quietly behind him. Draco's wand still cast a dull light across the darkened room.

"I think he likes you," Hermione said softly as Draco sank onto the bed next to her.

"Well, you can tell him that I don't really swing that way."

Hermione chuckled as rested her head against Draco's chest again and they fell into a peaceful silence.

"It just seems so surreal," she said, finally.

"What does?"

"This," she gestured with her right hand between the two of them. "Us...the fact that Voldemort is gone - it's as though there's all this pressure that has finally been released...it's unbelievable."

"I know what you mean," Draco said softly as he stroked her hair.

They sat in that manner for several minutes. Listening to each other's breathing - feeling one another's heart beats. Draco bent his head and kissed Hermione's forehead before saying, "You need to rest. The healers said that's the only way you're going to fully regain your strength."

"I've been asleep for three days, Draco."

"Rest," he urged, as he made to extricate himself from the bed.

"Wait," Hermione called - immediately halting Draco from moving any further.

"I need to know."

Draco's eyebrow raised slightly, "To know what?"

Hermione brought her burned hand to her mouth and covered it, as if she was too afraid to speak what she desired.

"To...to know who didn't make it."

Draco's face instantly fell.

"Not tonight, Hermione. It's late, and you're still quite weak - "

"Draco, please don't patronize me. I...I need to know."

Draco stood rigid for a moment before sinking back on the side of the bed next to her sitting form.

"Okay," he said quietly, "...okay."

He seemed to be preparing himself to hear the words exit his own mouth. He hesitated several times - and with each hesitation, Hermione's heart began to pound more frantically within her chest - constricting her breathing.

"Snape...Snape didn't make it."

"No," Hermione breathed, covering her mouth with both hands, "No, not Snape...please don't tell me - he said that I should leave...that I needed to - "

"Hermione," Draco said with strain in his voice, "It is not your fault - he made his choice. You did nothing wrong."

"But...but...he was like your...father."

Draco nodded, "Yes. Yes, he was."

Hermione momentarily lost control. She began crying softly and her shoulder's shook with each breath as Draco gently gathered her in his arms. "Hermione," Draco soothed, "Hermione, listen to me. He would not be the father figure that I've always admired had he done anything less than what he did. He was a true war hero - the best man that I ever knew."

Hermione nodded against his chest as she wiped her eyes with the backside of her hand.

"A true war hero," she repeated as she looked up into Draco's eyes.

"Yes."

"Who...who else?"

"Hermione - "

"Please, Draco. Who else?"

"Bill Weasley...Moody...and Hagrid."

"Hagrid?" Hermione asked, her eyes brimming with more tears.

Instead of replying, Draco gingerly pulled Hermione closer - if that was at all possible.

"Shhh...it'll be okay."

"How can it be okay?" Hermione asked, sniffing loudly into Draco's shirt.

"You just have to have faith."

"Yes," Hermione whispered in return.

"Faith."

* * *

The memorial the Ministry had set up for the fallen witches and wizards of the final battle seemed strangely impersonal - given the massive amount of familiar faces that turned up for the occasion. _The Daily Prophet _would later hail it as one of the most emotional, honorable tributes to fallen heroes that had ever been held in Britain. Hermione somehow had doubts on that supposed fact, having remembered reading of the fallen members of the original Order of the Phoenix just after Voldemort's first demise. 

The memorial was at Hogwarts, and Hermione found it fitting that it should be. Hogwarts had long been considered home to many a witch or wizard who claimed to be lacking such a thing. And Snape's haunting figure wandered into her thoughts at that sad sentiment.

It was nearing dusk, and a beautiful sunset cast a golden glow on the grounds of Hogwarts. Dumbledore's tomb shone brightly as the alabaster reflected the setting sun. Next to Hermione stood Draco, his arm around her waist to support her. It had already been two weeks since Hermione had awoken at St. Mungo's. Her recovery had been slow and tedious, frustrating to one who was trying to keep herself together. After standing for so long, the Minister of Magic had been addressing the massive crowd for nearly an hour, now, she felt herself leaning into Draco's sturdy form.

"You okay?" He whispered, bending down slightly. An early summer breeze ruffled his normally kept hair.

Hermione looked solemnly ahead as the Minister continued to rattle off the accomplishments of the fallen soldiers.

"After today, they'll all be forgotten."

"What makes you say that?" Draco asked.

"This was how it was at Dumbledore's funeral...at Ron's. Everyone expressed condolences, shared sorrows, but then it was as if those people never really existed. The Minister has been going on for an hour about all of their great deeds, but it's all for naught. No one really remembers."

"I know you don't believe that, Hermione."

Hermione sighed and leaned further into Draco's side. "It's just...I wish that there was something more that could be done. A memorial seems...almost _crass_ when compared with who these people were, their souls, their thoughts, ideas, dreams...their hopes. They'll never be able to dream again."

"What if they still can?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow and turned to regard him for the first time since the Minister had begun speaking. "What do you mean?"

"The world is full of magic," Draco began, turning back to the ceremony, "...there are ghosts, portraits, all kinds of evidences that those that go on never truly leave us. You were raised by Muggles, Hermione, you can't tell me that they don't believe in something after this life, that there is something more."

Hermione chewed on her lip pensively, "It's true, there are several Muggles who believe in a life after death - some that even swear by it."

"And what do you think?"

"I think...I have to believe...that there is something more out there, to have hope that the sun will rise again...that this, whatever we are living in right now, is not the end."

Draco looked fondly at her and smiled, "Well said, Hermione. Well said."

The Minister concluded with his epitaph and the invited guests slowly began to mingle around the grounds. Harry and Ginny quickly found their way over to Hermione and Draco. Hugs were exchanged, tears shed, and hopes for the future revealed. Hermione remained unusually quite until Harry and fiance excused themselves and headed over to Minerva McGonagall.

"Come on," said Draco softly, taking Hermione's hand and pulling her toward the front of the congregation. Hermione obeyed and tailed a few paces behind him. Along their way, Hermione passed Lupin and Tonks, each of whom gently grabbed her shoulders with a reassuring squeeze as they proceeded in the opposite direction toward the castle.

After what seemed to be a long time, Hermione felt Draco stop in front of her. Coming around to stand by his side, Hermione found herself directly before Dumbledore's beautiful tomb. Reverently, perfectly to its right side was a new tomb. Blinking back the inevitable tears, Hermione read the inscription.

_SEVERUS TOBIAS SNAPE_

_1960 - 2004_

_Cowards die many time before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once._

Hermione eyed the inscription for several minutes before she looked up at Draco. His pale, stoic face was completely still - a few tears slowly making their way down his cheek. Reaching into his cloak, Draco procured a single rose - completely black, a rare, and astonishingly beautiful thing. With a final glance at the gift, Draco gently leaned forward and placed the rose on the black, granite tomb.

"Goodbye," he whispered, his voice cracking.

Hermione turned back to the tomb, the inscription, and the newly deposited gift. Bending on shaking knees, she knelt eye level to the stone. After a few moments of silence, she brought her fingertips to her lips, gently kissed them, and then placed her fingers on the tomb.

"Thank you," she said.

The warm breeze suddenly picked up and blew her hair into a fury. It felt comforting, like an assuring hug, wrapping itself around her until a smile appeared on her lips.

Draco, too, smiled.

"Come on," Draco said, pulling Hermione to her feet, "Let's go."

Hermione stood and embraced Draco fiercely, the soothing wind tangling their hair. Draco pulled back, tucked Hermione's hair behind her ears as best he could, and whispered, "I love you."

Hermione smiled, for the second time that day, and met his gaze.

"Oh, Draco," she quoted from the vague memory of his voice in her dreams, "I have loved you to the point of madness."

* * *

_A/N: Well, there you have it! There is still an epilogue to come - so I hope that everyone sticks around for one more chapter. I'll make it worth it! Again, I just want to thank Karmabur for all the wonderful help on editing. A HUGE 'thank-you' to everyone that left a review. Reviews were what made it worth writing the next chapter! This was my first fanfic, so I appreciate everyone for humoring me a bit. I want, and plan, to write an other fic soon - possibly of a different pairing, but I hope all you kind folks stick around. Cheers!!_


	22. Chapter 22

**Epilogue**

* * *

_"Happiness is the meaning and the purpose of life, the whole aim and end of human existence."_

-Aristotle

* * *

The day of her wedding was the first time Hermione had felt as though her breath had truly been stolen. 

She was vaguely embarrassed that she had made just as much a fuss of it as Ginny did on her own wedding day. Ginny had fretted and picked at the tiniest and most insignificant details - or so Hermione had thought at the time. She soon came to discover that those niceties _did,_ in fact, matter. The color of her fingernails, the border design of the invitations, the seat covers - all of it was a life or death decision. Hermione had originally gone so far as to tell Draco that she thought those things were trivial.

He had the audacity to laugh at her.

Evidently, he knew her better than she gave him credit for.

"I thought you said you didn't care about that rubbish!" Draco exclaimed with exasperation the night before their wedding. "Weren't you the one that told me the only thing that mattered was that we were going to be married and that we would be with each other for the rest of our lives?"

Hermione chewed her lip nervously, "Yes, and Draco, you know that's how I truly feel...it's just that there's so much pressure to do it perfectly! My mother hasn't left me alone for three weeks! Do you realize how much time that is? I've barely seen her at all in the past ten years! She's driving me up a wall!"

Draco had only smiled at her response.

The wedding was beautiful. Perfect. It was everything Hermione had ever dreamed of and somehow more - as cliché as that sounded. As she slowly walked down the aisle, all the worries of planning, guest lists and travel arrangements instantly vanished. Ahead of her stood her future. Tall, blond, and handsome; Draco stood waiting patiently with a glorious smile on his face.

Hermione was certain that life was full of moments. Specific moments that might be seemingly small to someone else, but they were the moments that truly defined a person. If one took the time to look, they could see magnificence beyond anything imaginable. Infinity was on the horizon. As Hermione slowly made her way up the aisle, eyes never wavering from Draco's; she was convinced that she was in one of those moments.

Hermione had never thought that she could be so happy, so complete.

But then came the day that their son was born.

Dirty blond hair, freckles, and beautiful hazel eyes, Ronald Severus Malfoy came into the world. Draco was, as Hermione predicted he would be, the perfect father that doted on his son's every whim. With the birth of their second child, a beautiful girl with extraordinary gray eyes, Hermione felt as though their lives had at last come full circle.

In the midst of the insurmountable obstacles of the past, it had seemed as though their lives together would never have a future. But amazingly, it had become a reality. It was surreal, sublime, delicious beyond anything either one had ever tasted.

"Mum, Mum, Mum!" Shouted a tiny voice, interrupting Hermione from her reverie, "Dad says that it's time to go! Let's go! He promised me I could ride my new broom today! Can I, Mum? Can I?"

Hermione looked down fondly at her oldest child, gazing into his ever-eager eyes, "We'll see," she replied patiently as she stood and took hold of his hand.

"Dad said that you would say that," he pouted as he allowed himself to be tugged along.

"Well, Dad knows me quite well, buddy," said Hermione as they scaled the stairs and ran straight into the very man of whom they were speaking.

Draco grabbed Hermione around the waist and dipped her into an overly dramatic swoon, "And how is the most beautiful woman in the world this morning?" He asked with a mischievous grin.

"Merlin, Draco," Hermione exclaimed with an embarrassed smile, "Not in front of the kids."

Draco chuckled as he released her, "As you wish, Mrs. Malfoy."

Hermione shot him a disapproving look before crossing the space of their quaint parlor and gathering her small daughter into her arms.

"How's my girl?" Hermione asked in the characteristic voice one uses when addressing a baby.

"Ma...ma," little Alexia chimed in, playfully waving her chubby fists.

Hermione's smile widened as she adjusted her daughter on her hip and turned back to Draco and Ron. "You two ready?"

Ron was attempting, quite badly, to hide the broom Draco had given him for his last birthday behind his small form. "Yep, we're ready, Mum!"

Hermione walked across the room, ruffled Ron's hair and turned to Draco, "You're impossible."

Draco smiled as he kissed her chastely on the cheek, "I know."

They apparated quickly, and arrived at their destination without much trouble, despite Draco still trying to convince Ron to hide his new broom - a child's version of the Firebolt.

The sun was low in the sky, the atmosphere golden. Ron's slightly curly locks reflected the light as he bounded gleefully through the field. Draco came up next to Hermione and walked beside her as they made their way to their destination.

"I can't believe it's been another year," he said, whether it was directed to himself or to her, Hermione wasn't quite sure.

"I know," she replied, adjusting her daughter on her hip as she scanned the field for Ron.

"Harry and Ginny," Draco said, turning around and observing the area, "...they're always usually here before we are."

"Ginny sent her Patronus right before I came down with Ron, she said they were running a little late. Apparently Albus ingested something that looked a little shady - nothing serious," Hermione back peddled when Draco's eyebrows shot up with worry.

They continued along in silence until Ron cried happily from up ahead, "I found it, Mum! Dad, come see! I found it, just where it was last year!"

"We're coming, pal," Draco shouted, "We're not quite as fast you are."

"I know!" He replied gleefully as he ran back to where his parents stood, "Did you see how fast I was? I'll be even _faster_ on my broom!"

Hermione shot Draco a reproving look as she passed her daughter into his arms and bent to adjust a loose shoelace.

"Mum?" Ron asked, now eye-level with his mother. His eyes were almost an exact replica her own, according to Draco. And as she paused for a moment to observe them, she came to the happy conclusion that she agreed.

"Yes, Ron?" she asked, gently.

"I promise to be careful on my broom."

Hermione smiled and looked from Ron up to Draco. "You do, huh?"

"Yep," he nodded, "I promise."

"Okay, buddy," she said as she stood and kissed him lightly on the crown of his head.

Ron took her hand and led her forward to the small memorial that they visited every year on this specific date. It wasn't grand or extravagant by any sense of the word. But it was still perfect in Hermione's opinion. Located close to The Burrow, it was a beautiful tribute to a fallen friend. Hermione carefully drew her wand out of her light traveling cloak and conjured a majestic display of flowers.

"Come here, pal," Draco said as he approached slowly behind them, "Let Mum put the flowers on it."

Ron obeyed and hurried back to his father.

Hermione bent her head slightly and fingered a petal in the flower arrangement. The golden hue of the sunset reflected beautifully off her curls. She took a deep breath and stepped forward.

Every year it was a strange feeling. There would always be sadness, a sense of loss. That was inevitable. But every year it seemed to somehow become progressively less. The focus became more of memories and good times than that of loss. And for that, Hermione was grateful. But she still couldn't help but feel a small loss of her childhood with each annual visit.

Kneeling down, a small smile made it's way across her lips. Her fingers gently grazed over the inscription in the white stone. Breathing deeply, the sweet scent of the flowers permeated her senses.

"Another year," she whispered, as she gently lay the flowers across the stone, "...another year has passed since your death. And I have so much to be thankful for. There's not a day that goes by that I don't remember your sacrifice."

Hermione looked up briefly at the beauty that surrounded her. A glorious sunset, the wind dancing with the overgrown foliage of the field, the chirping of the summer birds as they made their way through the sky. In her peripheral vision, her family stood, carefully watching her.

She turned her head cautiously back to the grave, "He's probably not the first man you would have picked for me, I know...but things are different," she whispered, then added as an afterthought, "...even Harry approves."

Allowing herself a soft chuckle, she traced the name on her friend's grave once more, "I have so much to be thankful for, so much," she paused, looking at the setting sun. "So rest well. Rest well. We'll meet again one day, my friend."

Hermione stood, brushed off her robes and didn't look back at the grave of Ron Weasley. Her son ran to her and clung to her legs and her husband wrapped his arms around her.

She looked at Draco for a long moment as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Kissing her on the forehead he whispered, as he had so many times since they had been married, "Oh, Hermione, my love. I have loved you to the point of madness."

She smiled at him as they turned and made their way through the field, to the next adventure in their lives, their next moment of perfection - to their future.

* * *

_A/N: Well, there it is! Finally! A HUGE thanks to everyone that reviewed and stuck with this story. It's given me the motivation to write something else:) Once again, a'thank you' to Karambur for the time spent editing. I hope everyone enjoyed this story! It was loads of fun to write! Cheers!!! Hope you all stick around! _


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